Out of Spite
by Yuna Karasu
Summary: Lucius pays Hermione and her new baby and unexpected visit. Snape reveals and awful past. And a conversation Hermione never hears will be the determining factor in one man's life, another man's redemption, and one man's name.
1. The End

_Beggar: Oh woman of blinding beauty, I beg you, fill this bottle with your love!_

_Woman: I have nothing for you and your kind, but disdain, hatred, and contemn .So, if love is your request, I leave it empty!_

_Beggar: Fill it then, with your Hatred, for it is something. Fill it even with your contemn, for none of that I still have. Oh glorious woman of such beauty, fill it with your disdain, for every part of you is beautiful to me!_

_(I'm kind of proud that I wrote that myself )! Also, it pertains to the entire story not just this chapter. K!? ))_

The phone rang, piercing through Hermione's apprehensive silence. She could feel that the person on the other line would have news that she would rather not hear. She let it ring, trying to delay herself the terror she needed to face.

Again it began to ring, this time more persistently, and the tension grew inside her chest. Tears began to roll down her pale cheeks, but still she did not reach for the phone. The trauma of a car accident had been enough to bear, but what was coming would be life-shattering.

She knew what they were going to say. She knew what was coming, and the difficulty ahead covered the light beyond the obstacle. All of her anxiety poured into the one simple hand motion that would change her life forever.

"Hello?" She choked back the lump in her throat. Time would have stood completely still, if she hadn't answered it.

"There's been a terrible accident, of which you have been informed?" The lady on the other side seemed impatient and cold. How could she be so insensitive….

"Mam?" Hermione could barely pull words from her mind to speak them. She squeezed her cinnamon eyes shut as tightly as she could and nodded her head.

"Yes…" Hermione's voice trailed weakly. This same woman had called her an hour ago with the news that her parents had been in an atrocious car accident, even the description of the car was enough to make her shudder. Now, she knew what was going to be said. She knew that there was no way out of it. She ran a shaky hand through her bushy brown hair and her whole body shook.

"I have terrible news…" The voice was slightly muffled by Hermione's deep breaths. It was inevitable, and the despair inside her was spilling over in the form of tears. She gripped the beige phone so strongly that her knuckes were pure white.

"Yes…" She managed meekly. Her heart was thudding in her chest. It was all over. Even she knew that.

"Both Mr. and Mrs. Granger have passed on." Hermione's silent sobs wracked her body as she dropped the phone. The end had closed its icy fingers about her neck.

She had no relatives to turn to, and had no friends that she could depend on in her situation. The family thing had always been like that. After the discovery that her parents had one of "them" the whole family on both sides had disowned her and her parents.

"Hello?...Hello!?" Words were muffled by the beige carpet. Hermione's eyes were so blurred with tears that she couldn't see it. By now everything was beginning to look the same.

The phone began its piercing beep, but Hermione's ears were deaf to it. Her body had shut down completely and all she could feel now was the pain and hurt. Darkness was falling, and so was silence. Finally, she slept.

_Ron was walking through the woods with her and Harry at Hogwarts. 'Surely this is a dream' Hermione thought. "Ron?" She tried to get his attention, but he couldn't hear her. He was just trudging forward into the darkness of the woods. "Ron?" she asked again. This time he turned to look into her eyes with a smile. He mouthed the words "Goodbye 'Mione" before disappearing into the darkness of the woods. Hermione dare not follow him into such a darkness. "Surely this must be a dream," Hermione said as she stared into the depths of the wood. It was. Ron had been dead for nearly three years. "It's just a really sweet dream." _

---------------

"Draco, you incompetent little git!" Lucius's hurtful words, shot through Draco's ears as he looked up with puffy red eyes. Another kick swung into the young man's abdomen. "I told you never to disobey me!" He wanted another servant not a faithful son.

The older man sneered and spit his son in the face. "You're useless." A cold scowl formed and a large hand reached a handful of Draco's golden hair and dragged him from the room, leaving him laying in his own.

The door slammed as his father left the room. A candle came lit itself on the heavy oak nightstand next to Draco's richly dressed bed. Draco squeezed his blue eyes shut as tightly as he could when he heard the little footsteps of his father's house elf, Rimas.

This abuse was quite common for Draco, in fact his body was nearly numb to the pain. All of the cruel words rolled off his back. Inwardly he was smiling.

Slowly, he struggled to raise his body, using a cold stone wall for support. He stumbled several times before regaining equilibrium. Often times he had cried for hours after being told that he was unloved. The small and ragged house elf stood in front of him and looked up with wet and shiny eyes.

"Thank you," the small pathetic creature said before he scrambled away clutching a sock as tightly as he could. Draco smiled through the pain of his swollen lips.

Now, it didn't matter. He wished his bastard father was dead. He prayed that a holy judgment would pass, and Lucius would be punished for his sins, for his crimes against his family. He was the coldest man on the planet next to Voldemorte.

He hoped that Voldemorte would kill Lucius the same way that he killed his mother. Coldly, cruelly, and without regard. Then Lucius would know what it was like to be shunned by someone he loved. Then he would cry and feel the pain of loneliness.

Tears welled in Draco's eyes again. What a lovely fantasy that was, but he knew that there was a revenge that was sweeter than chocolate and more satisfying that sexual gratification. Something so completely vindictive, that even Draco would be proud. The best part was: he could commit it himself. It was burning inside him, satiable by nothing else, but it. His fantasy of it was almost sensual, he wanted it so badly.

The creases of his swollen lips raised into a smile, while he gazed upon his beautiful reflection in the gaudy decorative mirror. He began to blot small red spots where the blood was still flowing with a small family emblem cloth.

Oh yes. This revenge was simple, yet so delectable and complicated that anticipation flared all through Draco's body. He had raised almost 35,000 dollars (muggle money) in personal funds to finance this grand plan, and was of age and prepared both emotionally and physically to carry it out. Twenty-two couldn't come fast enough for him. He felt that it would be an age mature enough to understand what he was doing. The thought never wavered in these past few years.

His marriage to a muggle, or even a mud blood, would destroy all of Lucius's hopes and dreams for continuing this dynasty of purity. He was going to pay a woman off to marry him and bear a child for him, but he needed to find someone believable. Not just any young woman would due, and yes youth was a requirement.

His overcritical nature would ensure that he would only find the perfect woman to play the part. Oh, the enjoyment he got from this. He was going to be quite particular and finicky about which he chose. She would have to be beautiful, yes. Graceful would be of great importance, as would intelligence. Surely she couldn't be just anyone.

But a question arose in his mind. How was he going to find a beautiful, graceful, and intelligent woman that was desperate enough to marry him and give him a child for money? Or would he be the desperate one in the end? This mystery woman might be impossible to find. A faint memory came to mind. He dismissed it quickly.


	2. The Black Market

Hermione sat in the tan chair and stared around the room. It had been a week since the horrible accident, and she had almost refused to crawl out of her home and come to the reading of their will.

The floor was covered in this tacky orange carpet that looked a lot like a color inspired by vomiting after drinking a whole pitcher of pumpkin juice. This was the ugliest carpet she had ever seen. The cracked molding wasn't any better for the wear. It was obviously put there by someone with a taste for particle board and was now cracked with large pieces missing by the door.

Every counter was bare and clean with a small bouquet of purple flowers. The tables were stained dark mahogany which was an elegance afforded in the strangest of places. They were heavy oak.

She never really understood how fast the world worked unless you were guilty of a crime, and now she couldn't believe that so many people were not allowing her more than a measly week to cry and recompose herself.

The brown door swung open and she gripped her gloves tightly when her eyes found the little manila envelope. She didn't really care what they left her, she wanted them back. No amount of material things could replace the love they gave her. Suddenly she felt so completely alone. Like the world was empty and she was standing in the wake of the apocalypse's destruction.

"Shall we begin?" The man's suit was even straight when he sat down and it made Hermione nervous. She let her thick lashes cover her eyes as she nodded. Couldn't he just tell her that her parents were still alive? That it was all part of a brilliant hoax to make her realize that she took them for granted? No, of course not.

"All of their possessions have been left in the care of one Hermione Granger, only heir and closest relative." He cleared his throat with a raspy gurgle before continuing. "The estate, and all items within or that belong on the property shall be entrusted to her."

A man across the table raised his hand, letting his sleeve slide down to reveal a rather expensive looking watch. The man behind the papers being read, acknowledged him with a nod.

"I believe that, because she is not under eighteen, she will be responsible for these debts," His eyes darted to Hermione who was sinking lower and lower into her seat. "There are many incredible debts that need to be addressed as well."

Hermione's brow furrowed slightly. Wasn't her parents' death a big enough price to pay?

The man, who brought up questions of debt, opened a small briefcase and pulled out yet another stack of papers and began to read.

"It is hereby stated that the final debt entrusted to Mr. And Mrs. Thomas Granger has reached the sum of fifty-thousand eight-hundred and ninety-seven dollars, and thirty-five cents.' He seemed to pronounce every single digit with a precise emphasis.

"I'm afraid that because of this astounding debt the house and major items are to be repossessed." The man behind that briefcase said. Hermione's eyes widened, could it get any worse? "Hereby, a Ms. Hermione Granger is to be evicted, with the amount of seven thousand dollars due in by next months meeting."  
Hermione's eyes began to sting with tears. How was she going to pay that off?

"Is there anything that my client can do to get this debt cleared?" Her lawyer questioned the rest of the table.

"Unfortunately not. She has been entrusted with all of their things…including debts." Said the man who was holding the will in his hands.

Hermione bit her lip and glared into the eyes of the man sitting next to her. He shot a worried gaze back in response to her questioning one. He leaned into her and handed her a chunk of papers. She was only twenty-two and she was responsible for all this money!

"I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do. As of now our business is completely void. You will receive my bill in the mail." With that he stood and walked from the room leaving Hermione like a goldfish surrounded by sharks.

She didn't quite Know what to do so she got up and left the room, holding back not a single tear on her way to the exit. She needed to go and get what little object she knew she was still in possession of and find a new place to stay. How was she going to pay all that money in only a month? She didn't know, but she would have to make a battle plan pretty damn soon, or else she would be thrown in prison.

She was so desperate that she would do anything to pay this off and live a normal life again. Anything.

-------------------------

Hermione fumbled with a small perfume bottle as she attempted to fill it full of a clear syrupy liquid by means of an eyedropper. She nearly knocked over the cauldron because her hands were shaking so uncontrollably.

As quickly as she was capable, she twisted the tiny cap back on and fastened the chain, on which it hung, around her neck. She gave it a tug to reassure herself that it was secure and she swung a long black coat over her body to cover what the revealing outfit could not.

Her nervousness should have faded by now. After all this was the eighteenth "business deal" she had made. Since she was shocked by the incredible debt her parents had left, she was selling potions and magical items to wizards and muggles alike. It didn't matter who the people were, all of them were equal in her eyes. It was a sad fact that a murderer and a child had been the same, as long as they had the money to pay her.

The voice on the phone sounded sickeningly familiar to her when he had called to solicit her talents at potion making. It had a distinctive arrogance to it, but she couldn't place a name to it. However familiar it may sound money was money and it didn't matter where it was coming from at this point.

After turning the lights off in the cheap hotel room, she stepped out the door, down the stair, and into foreboding darkness.

The night's air was rather crisp considering the day was one of the hottest the little town of Bergen had seen all year. Hermione pulled the black overcoat about her small frame all the tighter, but she wasn't quite sure if it was from the cold or self disgust.

It had been months since Draco had decided to start looking, and still he was at a loss for the proper young woman. In all his years he had never thought that it would take so long to find someone willing, but he was quite mistaken.

After a few slaps in the face and a couple wasted nights wandering around, here he was driving around a small town named Bergen. The place was so bloody small that it wasn't even on the map, but he was at a loss for ideas anyhow. This was just a bit of dawdling on his part. Really it was more of an act of desperation.

He thought that he might not get slapped if they saw what he looked like but he assumed that it would be better to keep his identity secret until the deal was accepted or negotiations were initiated. He had clicked off the light. Even when the door was opened it wouldn't come one.

The prostitution in these parts was terrible, or at least that is what his father used to tell him. He figured that he could find a young woman who had just been introduced into the field, so she wouldn't come too tainted. He was still very unhappy with the idea because he wanted the woman he chose to be his and no one else's. The idea that the woman he may pick up had been touched, would just eat him up inside.

He knew that if he had decided to go along with the marriage his father had arranged, the young woman would be a virgin. Sure she would be as pure as the day she was born, but what other criteria would she meet. His father just had to face the fact that Pansy was a downright gluttonous and spoiled pig, who only cares about money and luxury. Draco couldn't deal with her incessant whining when she was a child, how could he possibly deal with it now. You'd think that because her personality was so shallow and superficial that she would at least be good looking, but she was a complete pig. Some women look good with a little meat on their bones, but she was just downright nasty. Her father would often sit and ponder why she was still a virgin, and Draco would just be in complete disbelief to the fact that anyone would even imagine touching her. The very thought of Pansy made Draco want to vomit.

Still, he needed to find someone to take her place as quickly as he could. His car was pulling along the darker and more ill reputed part of town, so he eased off the gas a little and began to look around for someone semi-suitable. He passed a group of several sluts with their backs turned to him and slowed to stop. He slicked his hair with one hand and rolled down the automatic window with the other.

"Hello, ladies." He put as little emphasis on the latter word as he could. They all turned around to reveal aged and weathered faces. Truth be told, Draco was disgusted.

One of the women stepped up from the crowd. "By the looks of your face dear, you'd be looking for a younger lass. Down that way, I saw someone fairly new to the oldest profession." She spoke in a thick Scottish accent. "Unless you choose wisdom over youth." She added.

Draco just rolled up the window and continued on. He thought it quite weird for a prostitute to give up a possible job like that. He drove about a mile down the rode, to see other groups of old women. Then he came upon a young girl, standing all by herself, dressed all in black. Or so it looked, because the streetlight had gone out.

"Get in." he said to her after rolling down the window. She looked rather scared but complied. He could smell her sweet perfume, and realized that she didn't smell of sex at all. He knew what that smelled like, and she smelled more like innocence. And once that is lost, a long shower won't bring it back. Maybe it was lily of lavender. His mother's old favorites.

"I am going to need more than one." Draco said as directly as he could. It was such poor lighting that he couldn't see her face. "Over about a year and a half's time."

"Okay well, I'm sure that I can do that." His voice sounded familiar to Hermione, she just couldn't quite figure out who it sounded like. She just simply dismissed it. This was a business deal, she had to remember.

"Will Fifty thousand be enough?" He hoped that it would, after all most good prostitutes are more than two-hundred pounds (The currency!).

"More than enough, sir." She was floored, how he could pay so much for a truth potion. "Here" she tossed the small bottle into his lap.

"Well then I have something for you too." He threw her a small velvet box. Maybe it was the first payment. She opened it and felt to see what it was.

IT WAS HUGE! That was the biggest stone she had ever felt put into a ring. Why was he giving her a ring?

"What is this?" Hermione asked as she nervously ran her hand over the ring in the darkness. She wondered if the light was out because he didn't want her to know who he was.

"I have a proposition for you," he said confidently, "that doesn't require you to walk the streets for the next year or so."

"Listen, I'm not a prostitute," Hermione said defiantly. She felt the air in the car lighten a little. She was becoming increasingly confused. The voice sounded like the one she had talked to, but he was asking her for something she was unaware of. "I'm just trying to sell some truth potion. Are you the man I talked to on the phone?"

"No. I'm glad to hear that you aren't a tramp." He said with a cold pleasure. Hermione was offended. She was desperate and could relate to these women.

"Hey! You have no idea how these women ended up where they are! You have no idea what kind of things they've gone through!" She lectured with pride, defending these women with the courage to lose all dignity to survive.

"That's not the point here. Will you take my offer or at least meet me somewhere better so we can negotiate it?" He sounded almost hopeless as she was. Maybe this could be beneficial to both parties.

She was the most suitable mate he had found so far and he wasn't ready to give up. She knew how to make truth potion so she had to be intelligent. She was young or so she sounded. The best part though was that she was not a prostitute like he initially thought. It was a relief.

"Okay," she reluctantly agreed. "We will discuss this later. Say, I know this is awfully forward, but would you mind giving me a ride home."

He agreed and drove her to the hotel on Bradbury Street that she had been staying at. She told him that when he wanted to talk he should meet her here and have the receptionist call her up at the front desk. It upset her that the lights were still so low that she couldn't see his face. The hood that he was wearing didn't help matters either.

She lived in a motel!? Draco didn't know what to think as he slid the black hood off his head. She lived in a bloody roach motel with no street lights around it. She had to be lying about the whole prostitution thing. And damn it she was making truth potions. He hoped she wasn't a pure blood who had just been excommunicated from her family. It would be similar, but not as sweet as a regular old muggle born. Draco wasn't shooting for mere adequacy. He wanted perfection to carry through with this.

When he came to speak with her the next day, he would question her about her heritage and everything else he needed to know. She agreed to talk and that was the first obstacle already overcome.


	3. The Meeting

Hermione contemplated his offer in her hotel room that night. She couldn't understand why anyone on this planet would offer 50,000 dollars to someone, so they can pose as a bride. Hermione did need the money desperately though. The phone number was sitting on the small end table, just waiting for someone to call it, but she didn't that night. On the contrary, the phone rang for her. She brushed the hair from her face, and rolled to the edge of the bed.

"Hello" She said into the receiver.

"Yes, this is Miss Granger?" Said the heavily accented woman on the other end.

"Yes." Hermione said meekly, she hadn't a clue who would be calling her. The only person who knew where she was staying was that man that dropped her off earlier. She would love for it to be him, ringing her. Sitting in that car, even though he viewed her as a prostitute, she felt safer than she had in the past month. His smooth voice could have lulled her to sleep, if she hadn't been so nervous.

"There is a young man down here in the lobby, he says he knows you, and needs you to come down this as soon as possible." Her voice lowered so that just Hermione could hear "'Mione should I call the bobbies or something?"

"No Carmella, its fine. I do know him, I just wasn't expecting him. Thank you." Hermione hung up the receiver. She had stayed so long she had made friends with the receptionist.

Before she went down, she showered and put on fresh less revealing clothing. She had especially liked the shirt: a lavender ¾'s top with a v-neck traced in floral design. Her mother had given her that shirt. Plain jeans were the other half of the outfit, and a pair of slip on shoes. She tied her hair into a messy bun and slipped the room key in her pocket, along with a couple of pounds in case she needed to buy anything.

Hermione approached the front desk, closely studying her surroundings for the man that waited for her.

"Carmella, what did he look like?" Hermione asked surreptitiously over the desk. A tall, plump woman with brown hair and large green eyes turned to greet her.

"Oh he was very attractive. Tall, muscular, with the lightest blonde hair and the most beautiful of baby blue eyes. He is sitting in the lobby right now. Right over there." She said pointing to a man sitting with his back turned to the receptionist desk. He looked strikingly familiar, but Hermione could not put a name to the presence.

Hermione crept up behind the chair trying not to make any noise.

"Sir, sorry I took so long. What did you want to see me about?" He didn't turn, but instead leaned forward in the chair.

"It's no problem." He said as he stood and stretched his arms. Then he turned to face her.

"You, what do you want?"

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Draco. Is this some kind of sick joke?" Hermione stepped back defensively.

"I don't know, you tell me?" He said defensively.


	4. The Discovery

Sorry I haven't written in a while. I'm rediscovering all these stories and realized I wanted them to end just as much as everyne else! So I decided to continue...

---------------------------

After the initial shock wore off Hermione slowly sat down in the chair across from Draco. She studied his suspicious eyes and realized he had changed alot since they had last seen each other. It had been nearly a year since Hogwarts was closed and the war began to rage in the magical world. Hermione, after losing Ron in a battle had closed herself off and hid in the muggle world away from it all.

He was beautiful! Tall, even though he was sitting. He had broad shoulders and an elegant posture that would have set him apart from most young men at seventeen. Those lips were well formed and of a lively hue. His skin was smooth as glass. His hair maintained the lightest of blondes and his eyes had deepened into such a tranquil blue that Hermione's eyes fell to the floor and she began to blush.

A cocky smile rose on Draco's lips. He was still the cocky evil asshole he had always been! Hermione gripped the red leather of the chair and began to stand. As if he were looking for a confrontation Draco did the same.

"You can't possibly want to go through with this deal of yours, you sick fool." Hermione held herself as rigidly as she could. She was afraid. He unarmed her with his looks, but he was the latest member in a legacy of evil and not to be taken lightly. In his quiet composure he was still exuding power.

"Listen to me," he said forcefully, "I need help and you are just the person to give it to me."

"I'll have nothing to do with this goddamn sick and controlling game you have running here. You're not going to sit here and toy with this little mudblood," she spat angrily at him while she quoted his very mouth. She turned to leave only to have him grab her arm.

"We have both changed alot since school," he said firmly. His eyes were pleading instead of demanding and he realeased her arm letting fall to the side.

"I'm not going to fall into this little trap. I've taken myself away from the war and refuse to have you lure me home so your bloody father can do away with me just like he did away with my Ron!" She hissed at him. He dropped his head with shame and focused on her clenched fists. 'Such small hands' he thought.

"You are mistaken about me." He said still looking at the ground. He tried to remember all the misdeeds and evils he committed against her while they were in school. All in the name of saving face. If his father found out that he didn't care for Voldemorte then, he would have been killed. "Please let me explain because I think fate has put us into a position where we can help one another."

"If you want me to help you gain position in that evil clique, count me out. There have been too many deaths in my family lately and I don't plan on helping you bastards commit anymore." She was angry and hurt. He wondered what deaths she may have been talking about. Those deep cinnamon eyes registered pain and fear. She was broken and it saddened him. The pride she had carried all those years was stripped away. Other things weighed heavy on her heart today and what he was looking at was Hermione in her purest form. No pride, no falsity, just raw the emotion that only pain can cause.

"We have too many misunderstanding with one another that need to be cleared, but first and just for an hour, I need to you to drop your gaurd and listen. Then, if you see it as the right thing to do, I will listen to what is weighing so heavy on your heart." She nervously smoothed the front of her shirt and Draco instantly refocused on her physical person. She had grown since he had last seen her. That hair was no longer out of control and her hips had blossomed. She was nearly a full grown woman, and far beyond her years. Her arms were slender and her skin was glowing with the pink of anger. Her breats were small but proportion with her lean body. She still had an obstinant chin, but her face had softened and rounded slightly. She had a small and defined nose that struck Draco as being her most defining feature.

Hermione sighed and looked up into his studious eyes. He was looking her over like a tiger ready to pounce. What choice did she have. He was offering her money openly and death covertly. It was a win win. If she died there would be no more worry of debt or hotel rooms and she would get to see her Ron again. If she lived and he gave her the money he promised, she would be able to try and lead a normal life. She might even have enough left over for a muggle degree! The thought of caring only for school work again was almost arousing. She nodded her head and let him lead her outside into the night.

The air was crisper than she remebered it being and she walked very closely behind him. These streets were dangerous at night and she was sure no one would attack someone of Draco's stature. Her tension eased slightly.

They walked across an empty parking lot toward a sleek looking black car that beeped as Draco hit the unlock button. She walked to the passenger side and opened the door. what was she getting herself into? She thought momentarily of jumping ship until the tires sqealed and Draco speeded out of the parking lot with the rock music playing loud. She was dancing with the devil and she was going to get burned. What was she doing? 


	5. The Kiss

Okay wow. Two chapters in one day! You peeps really need to review me…preese! I am begging. Oh and btw…if you have been following thi story from the beginning, I made a few changes to earlier chapter because I decided that Hermione and Draco needed to be older. Just letting you faihtful readers out there know whats up. Enjoy….

-----

'She was perfect for this' Draco thought as her watched her gracefully saunter to the passenger side of his car. Absolutely perfect!

She was a mudblood. Check. She was very pretty in the least. Check. She had an extreme notoriety for her genius. Check. Those hips of hers were all the grace she needed. Check. Draco couldn't believe that she wasn't the first person that came to mind. Not to mention, his father would be even angrier because she was one of Potter's cronies. She would hate daddy Malfoy. After all, he killed her sweetheart, Ron.

He would have control over her because of that hatred. She was clutching the door so hard that her knuckles were white. She was so afraid of him. He realized that he might seem angry and he turned down the muggle rock music he was blasting. He slowed his black Corvette and she started breathing again.

"Where are you taking me to kill me?" She said sarcastically. Draco huffed and ran a hand through his blonde hair. He wished she would just trust…

"Look," he said firmly, 'You need to understand that I'm not the person you think I am. I have never been that person and I'm sorry." She looked down into her lap. This was certainly out of character for such a cold git. She wasn't quite ready to let her guard down.

"You are trying so hard to be nice and if it's real kindness, tell me why you have to pay someone to marry you!?" She said coldly. He was growing angrier by the second and she could feel the electricity in the air. She couldn't help herself. "I'm sure that Pansy or Parvati would quench your pureblood diet."

Draco slammed his fist down on the hood of the car and Hermione jumped and became rigid. That power was terrifying. Draco inhaled deeply and slowed the car to a stop. He turned the key and killed the engine.

"Can you please stop. You don't understand." He pleaded with her, but Hermione was still rigid with fear. He didn't know what to do.

Hermione knew he was a forced to be reckoned with in school and he was strong and distinctive in his youth. Now, at twenty-two, he had gained the temper of a man. She laid her shaking hands in the lap and they seemed to glow against the darkness of her jeans. Her eyes darted out the window and she realized they had driven into an abandoned factory lot. Her heart began to beat rapidly. She was going to die.

Earlier she had accepted it. But now, she was afraid. No, that was an understatement. She was so scared that she started to tear.

Draco gave her a sideways glance and noticed a silent tear flowing down her cheek. He was exasperated and couldn't get her to listen. Now she was doing something he didn't know how to react to. He was incapable of comforting anyone. When he was a child it was usually a slap or a kick he got as comfort.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." He sighed. Apologizing might work.

Hermione stayed silent. He cursed himself for losing his temper like that. He would become his father if he didn't make a conscience effort to avoid those outbursts. Talking to her wasn't working. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and squeezed his blue eyes shut. What would make her listen?

"For someone who felt it so urgent that they tell me what is going on, you aren't saying anything. I guess you don't like talking to the people you are about to murder. And stupid me I thought you were remorseless." Hermione said with a quivering voice. Sarcasm and anger, even through that fear. Draco shook his head. She was stubborn even in the face of what she thought was going to be death.

"Get out of the car." He demanded. He threw his door open in an angry manner and she jumped. When he got out he slammed it and watched as she meekly obeyed. Maybe he could scare her into listening. God knows she wouldn't listen if she thought he was only stringing her along to kill her. Hell, if he couldn't convince her that he didn't even want to hurt her, she probably wouldn't hear what he had to say. "I'm not going to kill you," he moved around the car, "I'm not going to hurt you in any way," and made his way to the passenger side. "I just want you to listen."

"Then talk or strike" she screamed defiantly as he came towering over her. His newly gained height was quickly becoming oh so obvious. That power was too much to fight. He raised his hand quickly and she winced. 'This is it," she thought, 'this is how it's all going to end.'

She stiffened as his hard body pressed against her, trapping her. Then, without warning, he kissed her. He kissed her with those soft chiseled lips and held her neck in his huge hands. Soft warmth filled her whole body and she fell lax against him. Even if she was going to die, this was a nice way to do it.

Draco felt her limp underneath him and he realized why his father approached his mother's anger and pain in this manner for years. Sex was the most powerful control the Malfoys had over their women and this was no exception. Not that he was her woman. At this rate, the money wasn't going to be what he needed too convince her to go along.

He pulled his head away and her eyes remained closed, but she no longer seemed afraid. "Good," he said, "Now you're ready to listen."

"Am I," she said with a playful smile. She looked directly into his blue eyes and was disappointed to see that this kiss didn't affect him as much as it did her. His hands were so warm resting at the nape of her neck. She stiffened. He could snap it right now without any chance of escape. She let her damned guard down and she was a bloody idiot for it. How could he make her be such a fool? And why did being and idiot taste so good?

----------

Lucius had been driving the streets for hours looking for that little bitch. He made the deal over the phone and she never showed. He should have known it wouldn't be easy to track her down and kill her. She was too smart for that. Smarter than that useless Weasley boy who fell right into his grasp for a box of candies. He just had to find a new way to trap her. Besides, if he didn't kill her soon the dark lord would want his head. She was the last of who Harry could trust.

"Take out the minions then go for the monster," He laughed out loud. He would have his way even if it meant killing her in his own house.

--------------

Please R&R. I will cry if you don't. Beside if you take the time to read it why not take the extra few seconds to tell me if you hate it or not…toodles.


	6. The Good Son

She was shocked and appalled that she let her guard down, but she managed to convince herself that it was fear that made her act so stupidly. After all these years, women still hadn't broken that biological need to be protected. Even if it was by someone who wished them harm.

She was in unfamiliar surroundings and was afraid for her life. She was practically right under his thumb. He knew it to and took advantage of her weakness. He wouldn't now. She had demanded that he bring her back to the hotel so that they could speak in private and in a safe place. Hermione could always trust Carmella to save her ass if anything happened. She had a panic button on the phone to call her because of all the business deals Hermione made.

When they walked into the darkness of the room she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Where was Crookshanks? He usually greeted her when she first walked into the room. The hotel had a strict policy against pets, but the staff didn't really bother Hermione too much about him. She waved her wand, that had been hidden in a special pocket she had sewn into her shirt, and the lights came on.

"What in the bloody hell happened here?" Hermione surveyed the room. It was destroyed. Her cauldron had been knocked to the floor and her potion was destroyed and unsalvageable. The mattress had been overturned and her papers were everywhere. Then her eyes focused on a single object. The strong box that she had charmed and hidden was wide open and empty. All of the money she made so far was gone!

Draco stood there with his mouth wide open. Either she was a slob or someone just robbed her. "It looks like you've been robbed," he said like he was the first one to figure it out. Hermione's anger flared and she turned to tell him what she thought of this little scheme he had pulled, but was interrupted by a loud crash coming for the lavatory. Several hisses sounded and she flew into that side of the hotel room and turned on the light. Much to her dismay, she saw Crookshanks fighting with a house elf and winning!

The elf's forearm was lodged in the fluffy orange ball and was being swung about wildly.

"Crookshanks! You put him down!" Ever the proponent of S.P.E.W. Hermione was concerned for the poor elf's safety. She very well should have been. The cat was quite formidable for a poor house elf.

The cat let the house elf go and the poor animal looked up at Hermione with shiny eyes. The cat just prowled off into the main room. Draco followed Hermione's demands to the bathroom to see a sight that was very unnerving. It was Rimas, the house elf that he had let free, standing before Hermione clutching his arm and sockless.

"Master?!" The house elf said curiously. Hermione flashed a viper-like look in Draco's direction. He was speechless. What could he say? It looked like he had just committed a crime in her eyes because the house elf was familiar with him. "Rimas will tell Master Malfoy Senior that you are here to do his work."

Before Draco could contest the offer, the elf apparated with a pop. Hermione had already bunched her fists up.

"This looks…err…much worse than it is." He tried and flinched as she met his terrified blue eyes with flaming brown ones. Her smooth skin turned red all the way down her neck, including that nose he saw to be so distinctive earlier. "Please. I…err…didn't do this. I swear it!" He was backing away slowly as she stepped closer to him.

"To think I was on the verge of listening to you," she exploded loudly, "I was going to take your offer. I see what's happening here." She forced him into the bed area and he sat down on the bed. She sneered at him while she was composing her words. He remained silent, knowing that nothing he would say could change what she would think. He couldn't understand why the house elf was here or what kind of business that his father would have with Hermione.

"I….. don't know what to say…." Draco fumbled looking up at her. Did his father know what he was up to?

"You didn't trust that I would take the offer and you expected to pay me with my own bloody money!? This is a dirty plan…you….you're a horrible git. A horrible unbelievable git." She was freaking out. How would she pay to stay here any more? How would she buy more ingredients with no money? Ron's family was long gone from her life. They blamed her for his death because she left him standing somewhere by himself when they got into an argument. The last thing she ever told him was that she hated him. He was looking for a box of chocolates for her to say that he was sorry. That was how Lucius lured him into…..

"You are a murderer just like your bloody father! Kill me…go ahead…bloody go on do it! Or are you going to bring me back so you can watch him do it so you can practice hunting like the wolves you are!" She was convinced now that he was after her. She was a fool for trusting him, even if it was for a second. The taste of him was still on her lips and her stomach began to lurch. He wasn't just evil anymore; he manipulative too!

Draco stood and became unnervingly calm. He smoothed the front of his black button-up shirt and straightened the lip where it was tucked into his black pants. His eyebrows rose coldly and he spoke in a calm and clear voice, "I am nothing like that son of a bitch and I would demand that you kindly never compare me to him again." The hurt registered on his face so convincingly. The anger was boiling inside of him and his angelic face was reddening by the second. Hermione stopped her tirade. She was in no position to fight with him.

He was twice her size and his shoulders dwarfed her petite feminine frame. This calm that came over him terrified her. She was sure that he was capable of destroying her right now and she just noticed that the phone line was cut. She couldn't escape or call her support chain. He stepped toward her and she stumbled over the rubbish on the floor. Luckily she didn't fall and regained her footing never breaking the eye contact that was pushing her. Suddenly there was a wall behind her and she couldn't back up anymore. Grabbing her shirt, she realized that she had left her wand in the bathroom.

Slowly and almost seductively he pulled his jet black wand from his own breast pocket. With a swirl all around her they apparated into a small dark studio apartment just a few blocks away from Diagon Alley.

"Stupefy," was the last word she heard before she felt his hot hands on her arms and then the floor was gone.

Draco laid her on the bed and let her stay in the confused sleep he'd cause. He would charm the door closed so she couldn't leave. This was best for now. She had no where to go and this trapped helplessness would convince her to go along with everything. Now he was determined to do so. He looked down upon her sleeping body while he gathered up his journals. 'She was more than pretty' he thought. She stirred a little and he fought the urge to lie down next to her. She was rather better when she was not yelling at him or accusing him of trying to kill her. This plan would work out. He would force it to.

--------------

Rimas walked into the study of the Malfoy manner. His ears were limp because of the guilt he felt. He knew that young master Malfoy would be in trouble when he reported back to Master Lucius what he had found out, but he didn't have a choice. Rimas knocked timidly on the open door.

"Yes, Rimas, enter and tell me what you've found out." Said a cold and nasty voice. Rimas winced and moved slowly in front of Master. The firelight from the stone fireplace made Lucius's face glow like a red hot coal. He seemed positively evil. He was framed by a tall backed black leather chair. Large full bookcases covered the walls and the carpeting was a deep blood red. The room looked like one that the devil would have in his own home.

"When me got to her place, me ruin everything and burn the money. Then a big orange cats tried to eat me and the girl tried to save me…"

"That isn't of any consequence. Tell me the important thing only Rimas." He spat angrily and smacked the small creature with his black came. The elf struggled back to his feet and continued on despite the gash in his wrinkly grey forehead. His eyes widened when Lucius waved the sock in his hand.

"I saw the young Master Malfoy with hers. He was surprised to see me." The elf explained timidly. Lucius's thin hard lips curled into a smile and he cast his gaze to the fire.

"Get out of here," He said emotionlessly to the elf. The elf disappeared with a snap. His blue eyes began to tear when he apparated into the basement. Lucius was clutching his sock!

In the study Lucius contemplated this striking turn of events. It seemed that for once his son was being a faithful and respectable one.

"It seems that the boy has finally realized what family he belongs to," He smiled and nodded to himself in approval, "he was bringing her home."

-----

It's getting much more complicated, huh? Please R&R. Do you guys like it or hate it? This is my favorite chappy so far.


	7. The Propasal

Okay, I know this is gonna be futile. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review this story. I don't care if it's a flame. I really just need reviews. Besides…I wanna know if I'm the only one that thinks a grown-up Draco would look incredible in all black.

Draco crept as silently as he could through the hallways of the manor. He hoped that daddy Malfoy would be long sleeping by this time of night. It was nearly three in the morning. He wondered if Rimas had told his father where he saw him. That would constitute a fairly brutal beating from Lucius. If he ever got a hold of that little elf he would beat it senseless.

The tastes that went into house's decoration mirrored his own preferences; it was probably the only good trait he got from his father. Everything was deeply colored with bloody reds, blacks and rich browns. The house, itself, seemed to be brooding. The colors were sensually matched with pastoral tapestries and heavy brocade curtains. It was a house that a person went into to not be seen or bothered. All the Malfoys tended to be low key like that.

He crept up the main staircase carrying all the items he had taken from the apartment where he left Hermione. His father hadn't the faintest idea that he was renting one as a base for this search. His long black velour cape swished the floor lightly as he ascended. Turning left toward his bedroom, he held his breath. He would need to pass the study first and he could see the light from an active fireplace.

There was a big chance that Lucius would be asleep. He began sleeping there, in front of a fire, after Voldemorte killed Narcissa. She had made Lucius waver his allegiance during the beginning of the war. Instead of standing up for his wife, Lucius was a coward. He threw her to Voldemorte to prove his allegiance. Draco didn't have a strong emotional reaction because he never saw his mother growing up. He was raised by house elves and nannies. His mother was far too concerned with her looks and power. That was why she was a threat.

Draco could see a long lock of platinum hair streaming from the side of the chair as if his father's head was tilted to the side with sleep. His cane was lying on the floor. The shiny black onyx of its handle danced with the reflection of red flames. Draco exhaled slowly with relief. His father was asleep and he was spared a beating until the next day.

Lucius was smiling and wide-eyed on the other side of the chair. He only heard a single set of footsteps traveling up the stairs and down the hall. The foolish boy didn't bring the girl with him. Lucius assumed that he was waiting until it was a good time to impress him. If Draco were helping him, the boy could be a death eater yet. Draco was becoming as sneaky as him! How pleasing.

Lucius could comfortable sleep now. Draco was home and safe. He was the only heir and Lucius had spent twenty years hardening him to carry on as he did. He wanted him to be strong, which meant having no sympathy. Without a wife he couldn't produce another. Footsteps echoed in the hallway again and Lucius was drifting from thoughts to dreams.

The patter of feet reminded him of a distant memory. A memory of lavender and lily scented hair all around him. He was dreaming of a time in his life when he was capable of love. It was a better time.

He passed the threshold of his room with a sigh of relief as he flung his cape over a chair in front of the fireplace. In his bedroom, Draco charmed one of his pillows to hide his parchment, and then collapsed on his bed. He couldn't believe how tired he was. His mind was still racing though.

He had never seen Hermione without her pride. She was broken. His abdomen tightened when he began to think about her suffering. What could have forced the prideful little know-it-all from school to walk the streets selling potions to people she didn't know. And in the worst area of all England nonetheless. She could have been killed or much worse. Death isn't the most horrible thing that could happen to one in the magical world. What if it was a dementor that found her, instead of him? What if it was Lucius that picked her up?

Draco shook his head, making a mess of his usually neat blonde hair. He didn't want to think what his father would have done to her. For Ron it had been a simple "avadakedavra" death, but for her it would be so much worse. Women were playthings to men like Draco's father. She would be passed around a death eaters meeting until she died from blood loss or terror and then just thrown on the pile with the rest of the used things. That was what happened to so many girls that were abducted from Hogwarts grounds, Cho among them. Draco was there for it and he was lucky that she died before she got to him. He couldn't have brought himself to do such a thing. The very thought of what had happened the night he stood in made him sick. Even now he was crying for her. The guilt he had inside him for not doing something was immense. He could hear her screaming still. Maybe Hermione was right. He was a coward and a murderer just like his father.

He lurched forward hearing the horrific shrieks ring through his memory. He ran into the bathroom and vomited violently into the toilet. He tore his shirt off and laid his bare cheek on the cold rim of the porcelain seat. He could feel the tremors in his body. The feeling of nausea was quickly returning and he could feel the acid rising through his throat. He was crying.

"Coward, coward, coward," he whispered to himself over and over again. The words were as sour as the taste in his mouth. Was that what had happened to his mother?

His stomach calmed. That would never happen to Hermione. Even if he had to die for her, it would never happen. He couldn't let anyone suffer like that ever again. The image of Cho's face matted in blood rose in his mind and the vomit followed soon after. How could he ever forgive himself? And if Hermione was going to agree to marry him, how could she?

----------------------

The sunlight came pouring into the barred windows and filled the whole apartment with light. Hermione could faintly hear the other tenant beginning their days. Alarms were sounding and showers were running. She swore she could smell coffee brewing somewhere in the hot—

She sat straight up with memories of the previous night filling her head. She wasn't in the hotel and, as she peered around the room, neither were any of her things. The apartment had been filled with all of her bags and papers. She was astonished that everything was put away neatly save for a single purple sleeve that hung from the drawer. She instantly recognized it as the shirt she had been wearing the night before. Curiously she looked down at her new attire. It was her favorite pajamas! Whoever had done this had to have watched her routine for weeks to know what she wore to bed and how she organized herself.

She could see a fluffy orange tail bobbing at the bottom of the bed and she pushed off the heavy black comforter to see. It was Crookshanks and he was eating cat food from a clean bowl. Hermione smiled happily. She hadn't been able to afford real cat food since her parents died. The cat sure appreciated not having her half of a sandwich in that bowl and he was gobbling down the food ravenously. There was only one detail missing from all of this.

Where in the world was Draco? If he had done all this, she had thanks in order for him. Maybe he wasn't going to kill her after all. Maybe he really did have a deal to make with her that in all her stubbornness she wouldn't let him voice.

Suddenly she heard whistling coming from behind an open closet door. She was curious and rose to see what it was. Quietly se crept up to the door and swung it open the whole way, startling the house elf that wrecked her place the night before. Poor Rimas fell on his little behind with shock. The thick carpet hid the sound of her bare feet fairly well.

"You!" she exclaimed narrowing her eyes. The elf was startled and afraid. "What are you doing here?"

"Rimas was told by mast…I mean Draco that Rimas must make amends for ruining your things last night. Did Rimas do bad?" Hermione squinted her eyes with curiosity. The elf was dressed in all sorts of socks. Socks for sleeves and socks for pants.

"What do you mean make amends?" The elf stood proudly on his feet and confidently arched his back. He seemed sure that Hermione was no longer angry with him.

"My mean and evil old master, the father of the kind master who gave me this sock," he pointed to the sock that was covering his left leg, "made me follow you and destroy your things and burn your money."

Hermione looked at him incredulously. She instantly put the voice on the phone to the face of 'the kind master's' father. Lucius had solicited her. Hermione's blood began to run cold and she was afraid again.

"Rimas is sorry for what he has done pretty master." He looked up at Hermione with his eyes glassy and his ears limp. He looked so pathetic and sad. She smiled at him and he perked up slightly.

"I am not your master. You have no master now," Hermione explained. "And the room looks absolutely perfect," she added with an emphasis on the work "perfect."

Rimas smiled proudly and puffed out his little chest. "Rimas will always be your servant. You are the pretty master who freed my brother Dobby." He smiled up at her while Crookshanks rubbed up against him as if to say "sorry."

"You can go visit him now if you'd like," Hermione knew that he wouldn't leave without permission from his self-elected master. Glee filled his huge round eyes and with a pop he was gone.

Hermione listened to the low purr of the cat and the sound of the busy streets below. This could only be London with such a hustle and bustle of noise. Maybe she would try to get out and take a walk to clear her head. Her heart was fluttering at the fact that Draco was not the one that ruined her life and stole her money. He hadn't lied to her and she was oddly overjoyed about it. Absentmindedly she put her fingertips to her lips and heat began to rise in her cheeks.

It had been quite some time since he kissed her and she was still feeling the heat in her body. Guilt filled her before she could get any true enjoyment from the memory. Ron was the only man she had ever kissed. She was even prepared to give him herself. That was what they fought about that day in Hogsmeade. He was prepared to give her his name and his love and she wasn't ready for physical intimacy. She began to cry. To think that she accused him of only trying to have sex with her. She told him that she hated him and now he was dead. The last thing he ever heard from her lips were those malicious curses. She wished she could take it all back. She wanted so badly to say she was sorry, but it was too late.

Here she was falling for the son of the man who killed him… over a single kiss. What a weak traitor she was. Draco would never have shown half the courage or dedication that Ron had showed and one kiss made her forget that memory.

"Frailty thy name is Hermione," She mumbled aloud. Her body thudded when it hit the big black comforter. She buried her face in the pillows and cried and screamed as hard as she could. That wouldn't bring him back to her. It wouldn't bring her parent back. She only had one person left She hoped Harry would send her an owl soon. They could always find her no matter what.

After an hour she had worn herself out and lay motionless and exhausted on the bed. She was praying that she would fall back to sleep and wake up and all of this would go away. Then the door of the apartment swung open and she curled into a fetal position with her back to it. She hoped it was Lucius coming to kill her.

"Still sleeping?" Draco's voice sounded into the room. She couldn't have been so lucky. The strong sure footsteps made their way to the bed and she felt it move as he sat down next to her. Her body involuntarily curled up tighter. The pain and the guilt were too much for her to bear right now.

She felt his hand brush back moist strands of messy brown hair. He laid his fingertips on her wet cheeks. She instinctively squeezed her eyes shut and stiffened her body. His huge warm hand rested on her shoulder.

"Please tell me what has happened to you," he said soothingly. He almost convinced her at that moment that he cared. "Please."

She rolled to face him with matted lashes and shining wet cheeks. She wasn't angry anymore, just broken and alone. His calm blues eyes stared into hers and he caught her chin in between his thumb and forefinger. She inhaled deeply and her body started to shake.

"Maybe we can save the words for later," he said, as he scooped her up into his arms. He held her tightly to his chest and could feel his shirt becoming moist. He didn't know how to comfort, but his instincts were apparently correct because she wrapped her arms around him and sobbed. She held onto him like she was going over a cliff.

He rested his chin on the top of her head and inhaled the intoxicatingly sweet smell of her hair. His fingers instinctively weaved themselves into her beautiful mane just until his fingertips could feel the soft flesh of her neck. He was rocking her for what felt like hours when her body finally calmed and the tears stopped. He genuinely hurt all the way down in his soul to see her like this and he didn't know why. Her helplessness reminded him of his failure as a person and he was compensating for it maybe?

Slowly he stroked her hair and her shoulder. Even if comfort was in the bed of the enemy, it felt good to be safe and still for a little while. At that moment she realized how hopeless she had actually become over the past year. She was weak and prideless. Comfort was good, coming from anywhere. Even if she hated the person she was getting from. Even if he didn't care about her and wanted her dead. She would accept the shelter for now.

When Hermione was ready she pulled herself from his grasp and looked into his eyes. His concern had not faded. His eyes were so clear and honest. She had never noticed how much his eyes gave him away. They were honest blue eyes. Not the manipulative gray ones his father had. She tore her gaze away and walked to the bathroom to shower. She felt disgusting for letting herself fall into his grasp after what happened to Ron. The warm water would calm her nerves a little she thought as she turned the faucet.

Draco sat open-legged on the bed with his elbows rested on the tops of his thighs. He held his face in his hands. What had just happened here? The scent of her was still burning in his nostrils and he couldn't get rid of the pain she'd projected from her heart. All this trouble to merely gain vengeance! They hadn't even talked about the arrangement or proposal yet! All this drama.

Draco inhaled deeply and pulled his wand from his breast pocket. He hadn't eaten anything and it was nearly noon already. Maybe if she ate something she would be calm enough to talk. He flicked his wand and a pot of hot soup appeared on the deep cherry colored dresser. He transfigured some pieces of paper into bowls and silverware with several more flicks. He rose and decided to arrange the small card table the old fashioned way. He placed the dishes on either side and carried the small pot over and placed it in the center. His timing was fantastic because just as he finished ladling the soup from the pot, the water stopped running.

In a cloud of steam, Hermione walked into the main room from behind the red and black changing wall. She inhaled the scent of beef stew and her stomach began to growl. She hadn't eaten a real hot meal in a week and a half. Draco looked up after resting the ladle carefully back into the pot in the center of the card table. He smiled serenely at her and she walked toward the table.

Draco marveled at the ruddiness of her cheeks from the hot water. Even with her hair unbrushed and wet on her shoulders, she looked like she always had. Her plain jeans and sweater couldn't hide her feminine physique. For the first time ever, Draco was looking at her like she was a woman. At that moment her pride didn't matter and neither did her brains. She was more than just a classmate. More than just revenge. His admiration was cut short when she plopped down into the metal folding chair and broke their eye contact.

"Eat." He instructed her. She complied with no resistance. "And while you are, I can tell you the offer I had for you." She exhaled slowly and he decided it best to continue and get it out into the open. "I hate my father," he stated blatantly, "and have wanted nothing more but to do something that would completely destroy his hopes for a continuing Malfoy line." She paused as he watched her swallow and look up from her bowl. She seemed as though she believed him so he kept going. "I thought it best that I find someone, who if married into the family, would destroy the purity of the family line. A mud—I mean muggle-born or a half-blood."

He watched her reactions intently. She didn't rebut him, but opted to continue eating silently. Given her ambivalent response, he decided to not to say anything about bearing his child.

"We can use an old fashioned marriage spell that can easily be broken by either of us. And, I know that my father is up to something, but I can promise you my protection. I'll pay handsomely for this, as I told you the first night in the car." She looked up at him with curious eyes. Hermione had nowhere to turn. She was kidding herself with Harry. He was off fighting wars and had no way to send her a letter. She hadn't heard from him in over a year. This was her only option, well, her only good one. Draco wasn't quite so bad and it would only be for a year. He would have to protect her because she would be an asset to him. However, the biggest benefit was the fact that Hermione could be so close to Lucius and he couldn't do a thing to her. 'Keep your enemies closer' she thought. This was a completely win situation for her.

"When does this all start," she asked. He smiled and grabbed her left hand. He slid the gigantic rock onto her ring finger and smiled.

"Immediately," he said. In all her life and fantasy she never thought a proposal would be quit so much like negotiating a business deal, but she had been wrong about other things when it came to love.


	8. The Old Friend

Woohoo, another chapter! I'm excited about this story, like im reading it instead of writing it. I don't even know how its going to end yet. Please hook me up with some reviews and tell me what you think.

--------------DMHGDMHG

Draco watched her eat ravenously after accepting the deal. The soup was gone in only a few minutes and she still looked as though she was starving. He reached for the ladle and gestured to her. With a nod he filled her bowl again and she began to eat more slowly. When satiation was close in sight, she slowed enough to begin talking again.

"That house elf said you set him free?" She asked him with hopeful eyes. Rimas had been wearing several socks, instead of gripping just one and was curious as to why. Draco laughed out loud and splayed a hand over his midsection.

"Twice actually," he said, muffling laughter. Last night, Rimas woke him when he was lying on the bathroom floor and explained to him how he had been tricked into giving up the sock. After the elf helped Draco clean himself up, he was granted four socks including the initial freedom footwear.

"My father tricked him into giving up the sock by convincing the elf that he would wash it. So, I gave him four!" Draco thought it best to leave the guilt-ridden vomiting out of it. "And then, I told him that she should apologize to you." (that's for you Lady Earindel )

"He did and made this my new home," Hermione gestured to her things that had been away neatly. She was burning with one question though, "Why did you do it?"

Draco gave her a puzzled look by furrowing those golden brows of his. Why wouldn't he want the poor thing free from the beatings and cruelty of his father? "Because my father used to beat him senseless for nothing. We will just say that I could empathize."

Hermione lowered her eyes into her half-eaten bowl and instantly lost her appetite. The wall of protection she had tucked herself into was being destroyed brick by brick. She couldn't believe that Malfoy Sr. would beat his son as brutally as she had seen him beat a house elf. She looked up at him with a new respect. To keep something like that quiet would completely warrant someone being such a snipe to his fellow classmates. Somewhere deep inside her feelings for him were morphing into something she couldn't explain.

How could her and her friends have been so blinded by hate that they missed the horror that he was facing. Her stomach squirmed. The useless houses of Gryffindor had created a rivalry that sparked hatred. Maybe that was the reason for intolerant dark lords with exclusive groups. She pulled herself from her rationalizing to see his blue eyes looking down at her with curiosity. He was very good-looking and Hermione didn't have an excuse not to see it anymore. That smiled really unarmed her senses, but now she could unguardedly smile back at him.

'No, not just attractive, beautiful,' she thought to herself and she reached over the table and faced her open palm down on the back of his hand. He smiled and upturned his hand to wrap his fingers through hers. He drew his wand and held it high.

"Espousa Connectivus," the words were firm, but not harsh. A blue stream of light began to wrap around her hand and tie it to his. The end of the blue stream waited like a snake in the air for Hermione to complete it. Draco handed her his wand (in my story, spouses and almost spouses can use the same wand) and she took it up in her right hand.

"Espousa Connectivus," she said with a smile. A graceful stream of red light wound down and crashed end-to-end with the blue one before it began to ravel around their hands. The light turned purple, signifying that this match was meant to last, and the ring Hermione was wearing melted into two wedding bands. One on his ring finger and one on hers. She gasped when she realized that they had purple running through the filigree of the metal. "It was purple?"

Draco inhaled deeply. Purple meant a perfect match. The blending of red and blue lights. A perfect match? Maybe this was about more than just revenge.

"It was an old spell. Maybe it was just a courtesy kind of thing?" He tried to cover it, but Hermione's calculating eyes were evidence that she knew better. "It's a breakable old spell," he corrected himself, "by either of us."

She seemed to take this as an appropriate answer and smoothed her visage. As long as this could be broken she was fine with it. Draco knew that her logic would always overcome the magical world when she wrinkled up that adorable nose of hers. The admiration that was cut short was coming back very quickly. Her intelligent eyes were studying him. He watched the different hues of brown flicker in their depths. They were slightly reddened along the outer edges from all the crying she had been doing. He felt the urge to kiss the puffiness away, but remained still. 'It might even be nice to kiss those puffy lips again,' he thought to himself. She raised her sight and he froze. Did he say it out loud? Did she know what he was thinking?

Hermione hid the giggle that rose when he jumped. Did she really scare him so much when she was thinking? It was funny. He seemed more concerned than humorous though. The wall was nearly crumbled down and she owed him a thank you.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered with a smile. She looked into his eyes with complete sincerity. Draco seemed very startled. This was so new to Hermione. This wasn't the young man she knew and hated in school. This one comforted her with care, fed her when she was starving and saved her life by showing up in the nick of time.

"For what?" Draco said curiously. He was only seeking revenge on his father and now that they were getting along it would be all the easier. Hermione just shook her head. The explanation escaped her as soon as she heard his smooth curious words. A smile and a shrug seemed an adequate response for him.

She realized that they were still holding hands and made no effort to separate them. Neither did he. This was going to be more pleasant than Hermione thought.

-------------------------

"Draco! You incompetent," Lucius flung open the door to Draco's room and peered around. It was empty and clean. "Where in the hell is that stupid little elf?"

The house was empty and Lucius was becoming increasingly nervous. Usually that stupid elf was at his beckoned call, but both he and Draco were missing. The bile rose in Lucius's throat. Whatever was happening was bad and he could feel it all around him.

"Draco!" He continued to yell as he passed through the hallways. All morning his cries would be heard with silence. And slowly but surely his resolve to beat Draco senseless would grow stronger and stronger. That boy was in a lot of trouble.

'''''''''''''-------------------

Harry mindlessly rolled his wand in between his thumb and forefinger. He had grown into a formidable young man with glowing green eyes and a terrifying scar down the center of his face.

This war was falling…no spiraling out of control. Ron, his best friend was dead, and guilt stricken Hermione had gone back to live like a muggle. The order had disintegrated and he had come to a horrible realization. He was the last of the horacruxes. He had found all but two, himself being one and a mystery object being the other.

He needed help and his allegiances were waning. The Weasleys had convinced him, over a year ago, not to trust Hermione. It was her fault that he had died.

"She lured him out there for Lucius," Ginny spat angrily after it had all happened and it certainly looked that way. Harry wasn't quite so sure anymore. After the twins became death eaters and killed their parents, he wasn't sure that any Weasley could be trusted. Least at all Ginny because she was sleeping with him.

He sighed in contemplation. He needed to get a hold of Hermione and find out her side of the story because she might just be the only person he could trust.

----------

Another monster plot twist AHHH!!!! Please review me.


	9. The Proof

_OKAY, ITS GONNA GET REALLY DARK FROM HERE ON IN. IF YOU'RE WEAK DON'T READ._

Draco confirmed Hermione's speculation that this was London and offered her his arm to walk through the streets as a married couple. The air was so crisp that she could feel her nose reddening and her cheeks becoming wind burnt, but she didn't mind. His hands were warm and so was her soul. She was, for the first time in too long, secure and safe. She hoped.

The streets hustled and bustled with men and women in business suits and beggars rags. It was a full blown business day in the most ridiculously busy place on earth. Or at least it seemed to be the busiest place on earth at that very moment. Hermione caught several girls looking her way with contempt as they changed their gazes to Draco. He was oblivious, but she felt a small pang of jealousy and slightly narrowed her eyes in a silent response. Startled, the two girls turned back to the espresso bar they were at. Hermione was shocked at her own jealousy. He was, after all, not really hers. They were only in this because the circumstances encouraged it and it was beneficial to both of them. Hermione could feel the slight anger rise in her cheeks when she thought that one of them might be the one he loved and truly married in the future. She squeezed his hand tighter.

Benevolently he turned those breathtaking blue eyes her way and smiled softly. Maybe he was proud to have her on his arm as well. She didn't care because at that moment he WAS on her arm. A little bit of self-esteem began to build when she realized that he was the most attractive man she had seen all day.

They came around to the familiar bar that would admit them into Diagon Alley and stopped abruptly when they heard shouting from inside. Instinctively, Draco pushed Hermione behind him and held her back as he surreptitiously drew his wand.

"Hey…He…what are you…lord..." a rather portly man who was poorly dressed back out staring into the bar with a terrified look on his face. Draco squeezed his wand tightly with the arm shielded in his long black cape. Hermione's eyes widened. A big ball of light shot rapidly from the tavern and the portly man crumpled to the floor. Dead.

Draco pushed her in the nearby alleyway. Only one person would be so bold as to curse another in public like that and in front of all these muggles! Voldemorte was inside the bar and he wasn't taking names. Several witches and wizards flew from the bar in terror. Draco turned and looked at Hermione. She was doe eyed and scared. He mouthed "stay there," and moved to approach the bar.

He slid the wand back into his breast pocket safely before he entered. He dared not approach the dark lord in such an offensive manner. It was dark and he saw the dark lord sitting at a stool, his face covered by a hood. Draco did what he had always done when presented with such power. He knelt and he bowed his head until Voldemorte asked him to rise with a hiss.

"Ahh, young Malfoy. I'm glad that you are following so close in your father footsteps," he hissed. Draco tried not to shudder. The lord smiled upon him, "It's almost time for your dark mark." Draco didn't need to be told. That was a demand to not only get the dark mark, but to begin attending more meetings.

"Yes, my lord." Draco did not make eyes contact as it was rude. Instead he stayed with his head bowed. Voldemorte watched him suspiciously, but soon lapsed into a temporary state of trust. It was these occasions that made Draco feel as though there was still humanness left in him, but that couldn't get farther from the truth.

"You may take your leave," Voldemorte felt the uneasiness in Draco. "Tell your father he needs to alert me when he has killed that little mudblood girl." Draco froze. That was why his father hadn't woken him and beaten him in the middle of the night! He thought Draco was doing him a service. These things were falling into place so perfectly, his mouth began to water.

"Yes my lord," swiftly he turned and left the bar. He grabbed Hermione's arm and dragged her back to the apartment softly so he wouldn't gain any unwanted attention. If Voldemorte saw her they would both die. Hermione was startled and had no clue why he looked so worried, but she followed like a small child scurrying after her father. No one even noticed the force he was dragging her with and she was relieved for herself, but concerned about others who had been kidnapped on these streets. She would have to right a letter about the bobbi---yank! He pulled her through the door of the apartment building and released her hand before pouncing up the stairs with his lean and powerful legs. She had difficulty following him at the speed he was going, so she just decided to take her time.

When she finally did reach their floor, she was panting and he was waiting at the door with a distant and worried look on his face. The face reminded her of a face Harry made when he mimicked her game-time study face. She wanted to giggle but was oddly unsettled by his sudden iciness. Would she be a stupid fool for giving in and trusting him again?

He again yanked her are and pulled her almost violently into the room and slammed the door closed. She flinched and rubbed her wrist. Damn he was strong. She looked up at him with a furrowed brow as he paced with long elegant strides. He was thinking hard about something and she wished he would just tell her what all this dragging about was already.

"What in the bloody hell is going on," she demanded with her brown eyebrows drawing together. Darker colors began to flicker in her eyes. He looked at her with icy eyes.

"Where the bloody hell did you get such a mouth," he said dryly. She was hurt and angry. Why was he being so cold? That dry and icy voice he was using reminded her of the one Lucius used in the bookstore that day when he addressed Harry. He stopped pacing and looked down at her, dropping the hardness he had. Again his eyes flashed back to a lighter blue and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"It was Voldemorte, in that bar." Draco said to her seriously. She didn't seem shaken, but there was still more news. "He told me to remind my father to alert him when he has killed a 'little mudblood girl.'"

Hermione froze. She was a target and Lucius was trying to kill her? Instantly his face went to the last male she had spoken to on the phone. It was him! Draco had unknowingly saved her life! She mouthed the words 'oh my god.'

"What?" Draco asked abruptly as he saw her disbelief. She looked up at him with an odd sense of awe. Even if it was accidental.

"The man that was supposed to pick me up that night was…your father," Draco froze at her words. His father, that son of a bitch, was going to murder her the night he picked her up. This confirmed that his father thought Draco was doing him a service. He remembered weeks earlier when Lucius had been issued a task that he described as "a lower henchman's work" and soon after he killed Ron. Never had Draco been able to put two and two together. What was he going to do about Hermione now?

"I'm not shocked. We need a change of plan and quick." He said with the utmost urgency. How would he keep her alive and convince all the death eaters that she was harmless and useless. "Give me the ring," he demanded as he began to pull off the one he was wearing. She didn't hesitate to obey him. He reached into his collar and exposed a thin silver chain to remove it. He beaded the ring onto it and clasped it around his neck. He carefully tucked it back under the rich black fabric of his shirt.

"Why," Hermione gave him a puzzled look with the premonition that she wasn't going to like his plan. He breathed deeply as if he was hesitating.

"You need to act as my slave so I can convince them that you are useless to Potter and that I will kill you when I have finished with you," Hermione looked offended. Her cheeks reddened with anger and he didn't know what she was about to say.

"I told you at the beginning that if this was just to get a higher status in your good-ole-boys club, that I was out," she threw her arm out with all the exasperation she could. Too many roles in several days: tramp, wife, slave? This was becoming too much. "Unmarry us," she demanded and vehemently thrust out her left hand.

"Look! If I cut you loose now, they will hunt you down and kill you," he said angrily. She just didn't understand what he was saying. He knew she was proud, but goddamit this stubbornness was ridiculous. "I'm not going to let them tear you to bits!"

"Wolves that are wolves or wolves that are in sheep skins," she glared at him and assumed he got the reference to him being the latter. "Unmarry us!" she demanded again. He shook his head and she became furious. She had no idea had to break such an old spell and if his magic was resisting it then she couldn't. Older spells tended to be sexist like that.

"I refuse and there's nothing you can do about it. I will keep you safe. I swear it." He was stern, but no longer argumentative. Hermione dropped her hand into her lap. She was till angry, but not one to abandon his reasoning. As long as she BELONGED to him, none of the others would bather her. Dammit, he was right and it made her angry.

"Okay, but I refuse to be commanded in private. It's a big show and that's all you're gonna get. I'm not really your slave," she said defiantly. He agreed with a warning glance. She would have guidelines.

"You listen to me well. There are things you are going to have to do and you need to remember never to make eye contact with me and to always keep your head lower than mine. In front of them you will do everything I say and behind closed doors you will voice your opinions quietly because we will still be in the same house as Lucius. I'm apologizing for anything that I will say to keep our cover. You need to trust me." He explained to her flatly. He watched as she cast her eyes downward and accepted what she had to do. Her hands fell into her lap and she concentrated.

"Okay," she said in such a way that he felt she might still be apprehensive. Her brown hair had dried into shiny waves and looked very neat considering that she hadn't brushed it. He laughed to himself as he began to think that she looked like that when she woke up in the morning. How inappropriate a time to be considering it. He smiled inwardly.

"Face me and stay still," he said to her as he withdrew his wand. She flinched as he tapped the tip lightly to her cheek and then her lip. He watched as the bruises began to appear, but knew that they didn't hurt. It was like the magical version of costume makeup. He let the wand travel down her neck and it began creating tears in the purple fabric of her shirt.

He saw her breath heavily when her bra snapped. He thought that it looked as though he had done what he needed them to presume. Hermione looked up at him with a bruised cheek and bloody lip. 'She was still pretty,' he thought to himself.

"I'm going to bring you home to meet daddy," Draco mused and Hermione smiled. All the events, if described without any sort of explanation, would sound like a normally progressing relationship. We met, decided we liked each other, got married and went home to meet daddy. It wasn't, but it was, that simple. Maybe was the "liked" was more like "benefited." He shook the idea out of his mind. It didn't matter. He was taking her home to meet daddy Malfoy and had just made her look like a beaten rape victim.

Hermione laughed and stood up rapidly. She was going to the bathroom to see what he had just done with that magic wand of his (diiirrrtty!). As soon as she encountered her reflection the pep in her step died she looked like a-

"Rape victim, that's your role," she heard Draco say from the other area. Well, he did a good job and not literally. The charms he worked looked so real that she stuck her face right into the mirror to see if the pores were even damaged. They looked so grotesquely real that she hoped he had a charm to take them away as easily as he gave them. "It needs to look like I broke you, and well…err..us Malfoys have a kind of signature technique." Hermione winced. He was still a Malfoy, even if he was a fake one.

'This is my big debut' Hermione mused, 'and I either act or die.' She had no idea.

Draco apologized in advance for the things that would take place several times before they left. He assumed that Hermione didn't have the horrors too vividly in her mind because he would have half expected her to faint every time he said it.

"Are you ready for this," he looked into her eyes sincerely. She nodded and he grabbed her hand. A small pop and they were gone, leaving a confused Crookshanks to mew helplessly in search of his evaporated master.

HGDMHGDMHGDM

They arrived inside the foyer of the Malfoy manner. The whole room was gothic looking, with its slate tile floor and flying arches. Hermione could hear urgent and graceful strides coming from beyond the stained glass door she was looking at and then she felt Draco's hand burning on her neck. Momentarily she forgot to react to that and he applied more force. When the door swung open and Lucius entered the room in a swirl of robes, Hermione fell to the floor and forced herself to cry. She watched closely as Lucius's stance shifted into a friendlier one.

"I see you have brought her home for me?" Said that cold and menacing voice as calmly as he could. She could feel his lips slither into a smile and was appalled. She hoped she wasn't wrong about this.

"Whatever do you mean?" Draco said, sounding so much like his father that she cringed inwardly. He was a terrifyingly good actor. She couldn't help but wonder which the true Draco was. He continued pelting the room with icy words, "I brought her home because I thought it would be grossly satisfying to make one of Potter's closet sluts be my own."

"Broken is she?" Lucius said with mild disappointment and she rested the tip of his cane on Hermione's chin and encouraging her to lift her face to him. Hermione did her best to look absent and completely compliant. "Hmm, you've done a good job. That little mind of hers is gone."

Draco laughed. "When I'm finished playing with it, I'm sure that I will have no problem ridding myself of it." Draco put a special emphasis on the 'it.' Hermione shifted slightly after Lucius pulled his cane back. Those cold grey eyes were extremely unsettling. "Did I tell you to move mudblood?!" He exclaimed and he spat at her. Hermione felt the wad hit the back of her hair and she widened her eyes, believing that this was less of an act by the second.

"There is a meeting tonight," Lucius began. He seemed convinced of the situation, but so was Hermione. "I believe you have been accepted for a mark, boy." Hermione didn't have any idea that he would have an audience before he-who-must-not-be-named. The air became electric. Maybe Draco didn't either.

"Where is that filthy house elf?" Draco asked icily, "I need someone to clean this mess up before we leave." He gestured toward Hermione, who was now honestly crying on the floor.

"I haven't seen him all day, but when I do," with a pop another house elf appeared. "where is that useless little Rimas?" Hermione looked up in time see Draco's vicious stare terrify the poor little creature. He drew his arms tightly to his body and widened his huge disc shaped eyes.

"Dimmy has not seen him sirs," the poor thing began timidly, "Is there a task Dimmy can do for sir?"

"No," Lucius spat, "now get your filthy useless hide from my sight." An instant pop made the house elf disappear. Lucius touched his cane once again to Hermione's chin, raising her falsely bruised face. His thin lips curled into an evil smile, "She's almost acceptable looking when she is broken like this. Will you share this toy with me for a night or two?"

Hermione cringed at the though of his cold hands on her body, violating her very soul with his evil. Lucius mistook it for fear and dropped his cane and Hermione's face followed. She wished that she could have seen Draco's reaction, but obviously she couldn't look up unless forced to.

"Will you want her after I've used her completely?" Draco asked coldly and with faint disgust. She could see just through her hair that Lucius was shifted his stance again. "I remember a time when something was so used you wouldn't touch it."

That was true. When it came to be his turn for Cho, he said that she had been too thoroughly used. He wouldn't touch something that was in such a state because it wouldn't be pleasurable for him. "I guess if your roughness subsides a little, but if you are as cruel a master as you look, then no. I'm assuming you will be especially cruel and forceful, given who she is."

Hermione felt the relief shoot up from her stomach. Draco surely did know how to talk his way around things and maybe he could use his observer's mouth to protect them.

"As cruel as my name suggests," Draco retorted. Lucius opened the stained glass door as Hermione felt a hug hand grab a handful of robes and drag her into the next room.

"Then she may look like that useless little Cho girl when you get done with her." Lucius sneered and walked out of sight. Draco pulled Hermione to her feet and she unwittingly complied. Her mind was preoccupied with Cho because she remembered the day that Harry told her to "Bugger off!" and she went walking around in the middle of the night. The last she heard was that she had been kidnapped or was missing or something. Not another word was spoken about it until her parents came to collect her things from Dumbledore. At that point, the whispers that she was dead began to fly and they quickly mutated into brutally raped and beaten by death eaters. Hermione didn't believe the latter only because she thought that the death eaters would merely kill and move on. She hoped that's what they did.

"Dimmy!" She heard Draco call sternly. With a pop and the familiar shuffle of feet he appeared still terrified of Draco. "You will take her upstairs and freshen her up so that she will be a suitable servant to bring to the ceremony."

"Yes s-s-sir. Dimmy will d-d-do as he is t-t-t-told sir." Hermione felt a cold little hand on her calf and with a pop; she was in a deeply colored bedroom that was impeccably neat. "Dimmy will help miss shower."

She sighed, but made eye contact. 'I'm even being ordered around by the house elves,' she thought and then quickly felt guilty for assuming they were lower than her.

"Okay Dimmy," she said softly and watched his tight posture fall into something more normal, "You don't need to be afraid of me. We are in the same position you and I." Not exactly the same, but Hermione knew she had to lie even to the house elves because you never know what kind of questions their masters ask them.

"Dimmy will help miss, can Dimmy ask miss a question?" Hermione nodded as Dimmy began to pull towels and clothes from no where. Hermione nodded and Dimmy's eyes sparkled in excitement. "Did young master really give Rimas a sock?"

"No," Hermione said flatly. "Well, I don't know really, but I don't think such a cruel nas---"

"You shouldn't speak of master that way," Dimmy cut her off and his shoulders dropped at the realization that his friend had not received a sock. Hermione felt bad for lying, but how stupid would they look if a house elf gave them away? "Miss must undress, Dimmy will start the water."

Hermione hesitantly began to take of her clothes and calmed when she realized that Dimmy didn't particularly care that she was female. 'My modesty even makes me nervous in front of other species now,' she thought and smiled before stripping her last sock. Dimmy looked up at her with wide eyes and she thought that she may have made the wrong assumption.

"Such bruises miss," Dimmy gazed upon her naked body. Her heartbeat slowed when she realized it was because of concern for her false injuries. She looked down at herself and saw all of the blue marks and scratches stand out against her pale skin. They looked so real that she almost remembered being beaten and of course she hadn't been. "You look like the dead Misses clothes could fit a little loosely. Dimmy will fix while you shower. Use this."

He thrust out his hand and presented Hermione with a jar full of potion. It was a deep flesh color and smelled like mint. If she remembered correctly it was a potion to rid her of bruises. Draco obviously had a nice stock of this somewhere, for the house elf to give her such a large portion. She sickened at the thought of his beautiful pale complexion being tainted by such a disgusting mark. Bruises were not new to him.

Hermione made her way to the bathroom in the adjacent room by means of a connecting door. The water was already running and steaming hot when she stepped into it. Faintly she heard a sewing machine start somewhere in the house, but it faded into the background as she dipped her head under the jet of warm water.

She became so lost in the shower that she didn't hear the pop in the next room when Draco arrived. The door had been left wide open and the house elf had laid the clothing she was to wear on the bed. Draco changed his self into fitting black robes with a discreet collar and tucked the necklace into the front, looping it around a button so that it wouldn't get pulled out. He sat in the black leather chair at his desk and began to calmly read over the plans that had been shattered. Tucking them into a drawer of the desk and mumbling a few words did the trick to hide them. He tilted his head back and looked up at the ceiling. 'This is going to work out exactly as planned, this is just a delay.' He was assuring himself, but did not know if it was true. 'I will force this to happen,' he thought and realigned his resolve.

Hermione turned off the water and exited the shower. The bruises were all gone and her skin was glowing with a faint pink hue from the warmth of the water. She hummed on her way out with the towel wrapped around her and didn't notice Draco sitting in the chair.

He listened to her humming and turned to look as she was toweling her hair in all her naked glory. Draco's eyes widened and his whole body stiffened (yes WHOLE body). She was beautiful. Her breasts were rounded like overturned teacups with small rosy nipples that made him hold his breath. Her hips were perfectly rounded and smoothly contoured in connection with her backside. She was incredibly lean, but not bony or rough or too muscular. She was just soft and smooth-looking. His eyes wandered to his favorite part of any female body; the curve of her lower back was extraordinary. Instantly visions of running his fingers along that curve filled his mind and his face flushed with arousal. He had had many women in his time, but none matched the beauty in this one he hadn't.

Her body had a rosy pink lover's flush that he knew was caused only by the water, but he momentarily imagined that it was he who caused it. What a rush it gave him to think that!

It took almost inhuman strength to pull his eyes away and tilt his head back toward the ceiling. He didn't want her to catch him looking, although he was sure that she had no idea he was even there. The images lingered in his head and married new ones from his imagination. This wasn't helping his growing need, but the torture was excruciatingly delicious.

He heard he gasp when she actually did realize he was in the room. He made no move to look in her direction because there was no way that she could be dressed already. 'A man must always let a lady have her modesty until she chooses to let it go.' He recited to himself, 'How chivalric.'

He waited until he heard the yank the dress over her hips to turn and look at her. She was hardly zipped up, but he could already see the deep blood colored fabric clinging to those curves of hers. She smiled at him and she pulled the zipper up the side and put a red cameo choker around her neck. He wished she would leave her hair al messy and wet, but she began to brush it. She would look like her either way, but when her hair was a mess it gave a wildness and freedom to her appearance that he had never seen. She had always been this horribly stuffy and controlled individual.

"Ready," he asked when she had finished smoothing the dress and brushing the last few knotty pieces of hair. She had left it down and it already began to dry into rich brown waves. It wasn't wild, but it was free.

"Do I have to wear shoes of some sort?" She questioned him as she looked around the room. He was going to hate it later when her feet were filthy, because they were so perfect now.

"No," he said stiffly. Slaves did not wear shoes and were always given minimal clothing. Her brow furrowed with curiosity and he felt to explain, "Slaves do not wear shoes and will always wear as little clothing as possibly. We are making the believable."

She accepted it as truth and seemed to connect it to the fact that she wasn't given underwear. "Then, I'm ready," she said. He stood and grabbed her arm. She heard a pop and both of them were whirling through space.

HGDMHGDMHGDMHGDM

She had been cold when they arrived in a cave somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Now she was freezing because it seemed her body had realized that she wasn't wearing heavy clothing like she should be. Still, she kept her face to the floor and let Draco lead her by her hair. When he stopped and stood still she fell to her knees and placed a hand on the back of his leg.

He had explained to her when they were whirling through space that she needed to squeeze his ankle if something was not possibly or if something was wrong.

"This is that little Granger bitch I asked your father to kill, is it not?" Voldemorte asked angrily. Draco had an explanation.

"Yes my lord, but her death would not be so sweet unless she were tortured and abused much before she did die. I feel that if I keep her alive long enough, she may even lure Potter to us." Draco explained. Voldemorte let out a low hiss that sounded somewhat like a 'hmmm.'

"Your boy is brilliant Lucius," he said flatly. Hermione exhaled slowly with relief. "How do you abuse her?" The dark lord asked almost humorously.

"How do Malfoys always abuse and humiliate their female prisoners?" Draco asked coldly. He heard the dark lord laugh menacingly.

"Well, do you feel as if you can prove it right here and now because I'm not sure if you're telling the truth?" Voldemorte hissed and Hermione's heart raced. There were too many innuendo-like references flying for her to know exactly what was being said.

"What is it that you wish me to do my lord?" Draco asked weakly.

"I want you to fuck her. Right here and right now. Prove your cruelty and you may keep her." She could hear the laughter and cheering coming form the crowd of death eaters and she squeezed his ankle violently. She was still a virgin.

"Yes, my lord," Draco said humbly and grabbed a handful of her hair.

_Sorry it's so long guys. It my favorite so far! Please drop me some reviews and I'll keep on writing._


	10. The Apology

Omg, ever since I put this brand new Tom Felton desktop picture up, I have been writing sooo much. Sighs…don't I wish. Don't we all wish? Thank you guys for all your input and I'm so sorry for those of you against it, but I'm going for true character believability and there's only one way out and that's through the dark scary tunnel (no pun.). I promise though, He'll make it up to her, or try, and honestly could you or I talk our ways out of this? Besides, Hermione is a pretty reasonable girl and would probably understand.

----------------

Reality sank in when he grabbed Hermione's hair and she went rigid. How was he going to talk his way out of this one? Refusal was not an option and with so many people looking how could he fake it? Lying about his level of satiation might work, but how could he risk her life?

"I've enjoyed myself several times today already lord. I'm sure I may not have another in me," Draco tried to talk his way out of it subtly; "I might even get stage fright." The rest of the crowd knew what that was and the laughed nervously while awaiting the dark lord's reaction.

"Hmm, how's about a private audience. Just me, Lucius, and you." Voldemorte must know that he was balking, but what could he do. Hermione was squeezing his ankle so hard that it must be blue by now and he had to come up with something fast.

Draco nodded. He had no choice but to accept because this would be pushed to the point of death. Even if she hated him afterward, she would still be alive. He was going to hate himself either way and at this point all that could be done was ease the pain.

"Perhaps your father can take your place?" the dark lord hissed. Draco had to play this off. He was backed into a corner and it had come down to three options: They die, he lets his father handle it and realize he hasn't done anything to her, or he does it himself and tries to repair it later. He hated the fact that he was going to have to hurt her to save her.

"No my lord, I will be just fine," Draco had no choice and he bowed his head in defeat. Hermione stopped squeezing his leg and just let her fingers rest loosely at the top of his shoe. 'I'm so sorry,' he said to her in his mind, 'Please god let her hear me. I'm so sorry.'

"Let us go behind the curtain?" Voldemorte said menacingly. Draco grabbed Hermione's hair and she complied by slowly raising herself to her feet. She was shaking mildly and her fear was breaking his heart. He didn't think that a couple of days made such a difference to him. At this moment, however, he was unable to protect her from himself- just everybody else.

He followed them behind the curtain and saw only dirty ground to lay her on. Voldemorte came close and drew down the zipper of the dress. 'This is it' he though to himself, 'no way out.'

Hermione cringed and he could feel her pulse just under her skin as he pushed his fingertips under the red fabric. 'I'm so sorry' he repeated in his head as he slipped the dress off. Voldemorte and Lucius watched vigilantly as the dress fell to the floor. His mind frantically raced with idea to make it hurt less for her. He had had so many women in his short lifetime that he knew it took time to ready a virgin and then it took control to make sure it didn't hurt. He would have to use that control to finish quickly. He reached his hand to his mouth and spit in it while pretending to cough. He leaned over and used his spit filled hand to lubricate the warm softness between her thighs and his own hardness. She shuddered and he watched her narrow back shaking from the tears that were flowing. 'I'm so sorry' he pushed him self into her and nearly cried when he felt her maidenhead. 'God this is going to hurt her so badly,' He began to pump slowly and watched her stiffen as it broke. 'That must have been why she was squeezing my ankle so desperately' He concentrated on finishing himself, while Voldemorte goaded him on. He couldn't stop and hold still because they knew the dynamics of this and he would be caught. Hermione was sobbing and shaking.

He put his hand into her hair and grabbed a handful as gently as he could and guided her to stand, making it look as violent as it could without actually being so. He pulled her hands up to the wall and made her lay her palms flat on the cold stone wall. He hoped it would decrease his depth in her so he wouldn't be inflicting so much pain. He pulled her head to his mouth and buried his face into her hair so that neither man could see his lips. "I'm so sorry," he whispered to her, "I'm so sorry."

He let her hair go and pumped his hips one last time before exploding into her. He slowly slipped himself out and saw streaks of red on his member and his hands. 'Oh my god, what have I done?'

He quickly dressed her again and turned to meet the satisfied smiles of his father and the evil Lord. Hermione just stood quietly sobbing behind him. Draco was so angry and so ashamed that his composure was quickly fading. He turned his face from them and looked at her. She looked at the ground with determined eyes that were wet with tears. He couldn't figure out where her determination was directed whether to escape him or save them. Her eyes remained cast down and he realized at that moment that she was remaining in her position as actor.

His stomach was churning and he felt so sick when he looked down at his hands again. Grabbing her hair, he turned to face the delighted and twisted smiles of Lucius and Voldemorte. They sickened him even more and his face became flushed with anger. Both of them would die. He resolved at that moment, that vengeance was no longer for him alone, but for her as well. For the honor and dignity he stole in search of his own selfish goals. Regardless of the circumstances, it was his choices that put him where they were and it was he who hurt her. 'But how could I have known it would come down to this? Maybe my lies weren't believable?'

The guilt began to overwhelm him and it was all he could think about for the rest of the entire meeting. Hermione kneeled collapsed at his side and continued to cry softly. Ever chance he could he stroked her scalp with his fingertips trying to apologize, although he wasn't sure if anything would ever be enough to make up for this. Much to his surprise, she didn't cower or flinch when he touched her. She just remained as she had from the beginning except for the constant tears.

Voldemorte was pleased and admitted to Lucius that his boy hot not gone "soft" as he suspected and continued by laughing for such an appalling joke. Draco had never been more disgusted with them.

He wished that no one was looking and he could just scoop her into his arms and hold her until…he didn't know if there was a limit to how long he would do it. He ached to kiss her face and stroke her hair and apologize to her. He wanted to feel her heartbeat and see her stubborn pride come back. He needed to see her wrinkle her nose and laugh and hold his hand again. He wanted to assure her that it would all be okay and that he would never have to hurt her so badly again. He wanted, no needed, to make this up to her.

All of these feeling where rushing over him and the voices of death eaters drained into the background. His mind continued racing so quickly, he didn't realize that the end of the concession had occurred and most of the members were apparating to their respective homes.

He did the same and landed them back in his room, where she moved without looking at him and collapsed on the bed with wrenching sobs. Lucius, satisfied with the earlier show, would not be too nosy. Draco threw a blanket over her because she was surely freezing and moved into the bathroom to pour a bath for her. He called Dimmy to watch over it while he went back to her. She was still collapsed on the bed and shaking. He sat down by her feet and she didn't even flinch. He grabbed one foot and warmed it in his hands, trying so desperately to apologize. The words just wouldn't come forth so he continued to rub her feet and legs with his hands so that the hot water wouldn't burn so badly. Not that the pain she felt there would be any more than the pain she was feeling over all. He made his way as high as her knees and dared not go any further. The sight of blood, caked and shiny red, on the inside of her thigh made the bile rise into his throat. What kind of monster was he?

Her shaking had dissipated and he assumed her crying had too. He heard the shuffle of feet into the room and saw Dimmy standing before him with a towel and a washcloth.

"The bath is ready master," He said, still cowering with fear. Draco had never hit the poor thing, he just sneered at him. It didn't matter now. He nodded and decided that it was time to face the music… or the curses. He unzipped and peeled away the dress and her body mindlessly complied. He unclipped the choker and smoothed it away from her neck. He could see no visible bruises or scars, just the sickening red streak on the insides of her thighs.

He slid a hand under her knees and one under her shoulders and lifted her. She didn't make eye contact with him, but buried her head under his neck instead. 'It's a good start.' He thought to himself as he used his chin to caress the crown of her head. He could feel her hands creeping up around his neck and clasping at its base. If she needed to choke him, he would let her.

He could feel her heartbeat through his shirt and feared that she must be terrified, but he would finish this. She needed to be washed and get a good nights rest before she would have the anger to hurl things at him. Steam was filling the bathroom and made it seem like some mystic place. He could smell the water in the air and the bath salts he had used for it. They were charmed and would ease the dull ache she must have in her abdomen.

She held her breath when he leaned to put her into the water. His elbows dipped into it when he released her, soaking through the long sleeves of his robes. Gently he stripped away the button and pulled the robes down to reveal his own chest that was marred with scars from being whipped and beaten. Her eyes flew to them and widened with disbelief. She looked up into his for the first time in what seemed like forever for Draco. He froze. She was hurt, but not beaten and the defiant gleam in the depths of her cinnamon eyes proved it. He flinched when she pulled her hand from the warm water and traced her wet fingers along one of the many whip scars on his left arm. Her eyes began to water but she did not speak.

Draco leaned to her and kissed her forehead and she drew her arms up around his neck and squeezed him. Suddenly he felt the words come forth and pulled back to look into her eyes again.

"I'm so sorry," he said as he landed kisses on her face. He could taste the saltiness of his own tears as they flowed forth while he pleaded, "I'm so sorry. Please don't hate me. I'm so sorry. I'm not sure if I can protect you anymore. God I'm so sorry."

She responded by holding his face in two hands and looking at him. "I will make this up to you," he said while he looked into her eyes. She pulled him to her mouth and kissed him on the lips. His body exploded into a tingly mess of guilt and relief. She had quietly forgiven him, but he still hadn't forgiven himself.

He washed her in silence as gently as he could, and continued to cry softly. She flinched when he began to rub away the caked blood with his thumb and it began to for reddish clouds in the water. The familiar nausea rose in his throat when he felt the rawness of what he was washing and the small tear he had caused in her most delicate region. With a small spell, said silently, the tear began to repair itself.

Water spilled all over her face as he rinsed the soap and dirt from her hair. Her knees needed much attention because she had spent most of the time kneeling on a dirty cave floor. She let him touch her everywhere he wanted to without any resistance. Her shame and modesty had subsided considerably. He couldn't help but explore with curious hands like a child does to his first toy.

He traced his fingers along her the smooth hardness of her collarbone and she watched him curiously. His hand made its way down her right arm and his thumb massaged the inside of her elbow before making a move to lift her hand and look at it. They were dwarfed by his own and had very faint lines. Her wrist was rosy and cream colored from being in the water. He couldn't help but kiss the faint veins on the inside of it. The pulse beat strong against his lips and his body began to tingle again.

After releasing her hand, his fingertips traveled back to her smooth neck and down her other arm for the same exploration. He moved his hand and used his fingertips to stroke the smooth skin at the center of her chest. It was flushed with heat from the water as were her rounded breasts. Her nipples were small and as pink as fresh rosebuds. He cupped one and massaged the nipple with his thumb. She breathed in sharply and he released it to look into her eyes for permission. They were filled with complete and fearless curiosity. He decided that he wouldn't commit any touching that was too sensual. So, he traced his fingertips down her stomach and around her belly-button, resting and open palm just underneath. He kissed her forehead and pulled his hand from the water. 'That's enough,' he thought to stop himself before he lost control. 'But god is she so beautiful.'

She stood and faced him, fully nude with water dripping form all over. He gave her the large burgundy colored bath towel and she covered herself instantly and stepped out onto the black shaggy rug that rested atop the slate tile next to the tub. He led her into the bedroom where Dimmy had already returned and laid out her favorite pajamas on the bed. She quickly pulled the lilac pants over herself and he reached for the shirt. She raised her arms in a motion that said 'okay if you must dress me' and rolled her eyes. Quickly, wrapped his arm around her tiny waist and found that delicious curve in her back. His fingertips stroked it gently as he used his forearm to press her nude chest against his own bare skin. She just let her arms drape over his shoulders and planted several small adventurous kisses on his chest.

He released her and she pulled away. He handed her the shirt and stepped into the bathroom to clean his own self-disgust off. He scrubbed as hard as he could, but the nausea would not go away. She had just let him touch her and kiss her all over and he didn't know why. His earlier childish curiosity with her body, turned into guilt over putting her dignity on hold again. Maybe he should have opposed and just let them die in the cave.

He finished and dried himself off. He slipped on black boxers and a pair of satin black sleep pants. A simple whit t-shirt was a huge contrast, but what difference would it make if he were asleep. He left the bathroom and moved over to his bed. She had quietly gotten into bed and under the covers and he intended to do the same, but feared scaring her because she was still awake. He sat in the chair and pretended to do some reading, but he could see her watching him when he snuck furtive side glances her way. Finally, after hours of this, she spoke.

"I'm glad it was you who did it and not either of them," she said, "You did what you had to, to save both of us. I'm happy it was you."

Draco's heart soared.

---------

Okay, so did I make up for it?


	11. The Connection

Sorry, my semester started and I'm in process of changing schools and majors or trying to at least. God what am I getting myself into- going to go for marine biology and fishery management instead of English. Okay well that's all for now. Enjoy!

---------------------------------------------

The days of acting swiftly turned into months and the situation they were in was becoming stagnant. Draco knew that his father wanted her dead, but was convinced of her obedience. Therefore, the pursuit didn't matter to Voldemorte. And, if something doesn't matter to Voldemorte, It doesn't matter to anybody around him who prizes their life. Therefore, Lucius left them alone mainly, and didn't care to listen in on anything. The two maintained the façade almost constantly. Just in case.

Nothing touchy feely had happened between Draco and Hermione except the fake wand bruises that Draco would administer regularly. When in public, Hermione would follow him like a puppy and obey his every command, and he felt that to be merely acceptable. However, when they were alone, was when he enjoyed her company the most. She was a brilliant debater with a fiery spirit and quick wit, which Draco had come to admire. They had become extremely comfortable around one another and Hermione hadn't the slightest aversion to being nude in front of him anymore. In fact, to keep the sex slave play on, they showered together often. Draco, however, dared not touch her sexually. He still felt the same warmth and arousal when she would hug him tightly or touch him at any time for that matter, but it was always countered by guilt.

They were completely exposed to each other, both emotionally and physically. For Draco, it was the first time in his life when he could be brutally honest and be accepted for it. He had learned things about the trio that he never knew. Ever since the first time he found out, he had been cold to Ron's death albeit recently he began to mourn the loss of such a loyal person. She told him everything and he told her the like. There was no pressure anymore, until one evening when they had just gotten dressed from a long hot shower.

He was sitting in his desk chair and pondering the idea that Harry might be a decent person, despite his moodiness. Hermione had convinced him up it as she sat Indian style on his bed and combed her wild brown hair. Suddenly she stopped and cast her eyes down at her feet with an unnerving level of concentration. Draco had lifted his brow at this and asked:

"What is it?" He had become quite good at reading her moods and her expression over the past several weeks, which was nice because there were no more insecurities about what she was thinking. She looked up at him with what seemed like saddened eyes that were trying to work up the nerve to say something.

"I have been thinking something," she began and he focused his clear blue eyes on her intently, causing her to blush slightly. "Why haven't you touched me anymore?"

"What do you mean? I hug you all the time, I just washed your hair?" He said, not understanding the complete meaning of her question. She smiled at his ignorance and stammered slightly as she continued.

"Well, I uh…mean..uh…you know." He could see the redness rising in her face and knew exactly what he was talking about. He couldn't understand why she would want him too. He didn't know what to say. Luckily she continued, "You've been such a gentlemen. I was just wondering if it was because I wasn't…er…enjoyable."

He understood completely now, that this was really a self esteem issue. He was afraid to answer this the right way so he rose and paced. Her eyes seemed fearful and unsure of what his reaction might be. "It has nothing to do with that. I just thought that…well, it's a professional situation. This is all just an act, you know."

She seemed battered by his terrible explanation of why. "Oh," she muttered and started dragging the brush through her hair more violently. He couldn't stand to see this disappointment so he decided to continue.

"Well, maybe it's not exactly that. I mean, I wasn't sure if you wanted me to, I was afraid you might, I just don't"---she cut him off.

"-don't worry. I get it and I'm okay with it." She said in a hurt tone of voice. She continued to tear through her hair.

"Don't do that," he said as he walked to her and grabbed her arm. She looked up at him angrily.

"Do what, bugger off!" She said and jerked her arm away. He didn't know how to react to the anger that was welling inside. She began to drag the brush again and he could hear as strand after strand broke with tiny snaps.

"I said don't do that." He grabbed her arm again, but this time he held it tighter and she dropped the brush. She looked up at him with angry eyes and started to warn him in a cutting tone.

"Let me go. I will pull as much of MY hair out as I want. What do you care!" She was hurt and angry, but Draco was growing completely impatient with the childish game she was playing, so he grabbed her other wrist. He hated using such forcefulness, but she was so stubborn.

"Stop tearing out your hair," he said as he pulled them together and clamped one massive hand around the two. She squirmed a little but faced him with eyes void of fear and control.

"Why in the bloody hell does it matter?!" She was becoming increasingly louder and Draco was growing nervous someone might hear. He couldn't hold it in any longer and he burst out in rage.

"Because I happen to love your hair and you're going to ruin it if you keep on that way!" Her eyes widened and ran the free hand through a few of the spiraling tendrils close to her face. She was frozen because she obviously did not expect such a reaction or such a confession from him.

"You what?" asked with nervous cinnamon eyes. Draco looked at her and the anger washed from his mind and he released her hands and grabbed the brush. Gently, he began to work the knots out with steady hands and the patience of a monk. Her eyes closed and he began to speak again.

"Because your hair is beautiful," he whispered, "Because you are beautiful." He continued to brush her hair gently watching the wet patch accumulate on the back of her shirt. She remained silent with her eyes closed. He felt one more phrase rise into his throat and it escaped before her even tried to stop it. "I haven't touched you because I didn't want to hurt you…I've kept my distance because…because I love you."

He eyes snapped open and he could see the tears forming. 'Oh great,' he thought 'more crying. Stupid girls. They are just a big ball of emotions and tears.' She began to cry and he was unsure as to what he did wrong. Maybe he should just ask: "What did I do wrong. I'm sorry..please."

She laughed at him in spite of herself. He was so adorably oblivious to how sweet he was. "You didn't do anything wrong." She said, the tears of happiness still streaming from her eyes. She grasped his hand and intertwined her fingers.

"Why are you crying then? Did I insult you? I'm sorry.." He stammered but accepted her finger intertwining with his.

"I'm crying because I'm happy" she admitted with a smile. He eased up a bit and stroked her face with a smile.

"Oh," he muttered with embarrassment at his inability to read emotions, "Well, I was just telling the truth. Why do you women cry about everything?"

His honest blue eyes caught in hers and he didn't have the urge to explain anymore. "Shut up and kiss me," she demanded. So, he did.

He kissed her more passionately than he had ever kissed any woman before. He could feel the fire burning deep inside his abdomen when his lips pressed onto her soft ones. Gently he goaded her to open her mouth with his prodding tongue. She opened to him and he pushed her to the bed. The intensity he felt was new. He wasn't concentrating on his technique, like he usually did with young women his age. No, he was concentrating on how soft and warm her lips were and how the electricity in his veins felt. Somewhere in his dazed passion he could feel him pressing down on her and pinning her to the bed with his strong chest.

She responded to him and wrapped her clothed legs about his waist. He buried his hand into her hair and began to kiss her with the determination to touch every inch. One arm involuntarily wrapped underneath her and around he back, pulling and pressing her colder to his body. He couldn't hold her close enough!

He traced light and passionate kisses on her neck and she responded by arching her back and pressing her breasts to his chest. He couldn't breathe from the sexual excitement it sparked in him. He was quickly coming to the conclusion that clothing wasn't going to be invited this party. He tore himself from her and pulled her shirt up over her head. He could see her nipples were already budding and she was apparently enjoying this as much as he was. Her chest was flushed red and his whole body tingled at the fact that it was he who caused that lovers flush.

She rose to great him with more kisses. Entwining his fingers in her hair he pressed her lips to his and explored her soft mouth with is tongue. His right hand found that curve he loved so much and stroked it. Her body arched and her breast heaved forward as if being put on display for him. He began planting kisses on the soft skin between her breasts so he could feel the pounding of her heart on his mouth. Her breaths were going deep and fast and he was holding her back with both hands, tracing small circles with his thumbs. He enclosed one breast in his mouth and massaged her nipple with his eager tongue.

A small moan escaped her and he could feel the goose bumps rise on her delicious skin. His need had grown so powerful that he nearly moaned himself. He teased her other nipple and he back arched so severely he thought he back might break. "Please…" she whispered. "I need you. I love you."

His reason was quickly gone when she began to beg him for it. He threw off his shirt and kicked off his boxers as quickly as he could. When he returned his mouth to hers, it felt like it had been an eternity separated. Slowly and almost teasingly he slid off the pajama pants that she was wearing. Her legs needed little encouragement to expose the very center of her being. Her small hands clutched the back of his neck and prepared for what he was readying for. His hips were shaking with anticipation when he looked into her eyes for the permission he needed. She nodded to him and grasped his neck tightly.

It took all the power in his being not to plunge into her with the force of a train. Slowly and gently he lowered his hips and entered her warm softness. She breathed in sharply and he lost control and began pumping his hips into her. She raised hers to meet him and held onto him with fiber of her being as if she were falling off the edge of the earth. He could feel and smell her hair on his face as he pressed himself to her as closely as possible. Her hips bucked wildly as she reached a climax than nearly strangled his manhood with the force of the spasms deep within her.

With a load moan, she arched her back in time for his release to come crashing over him. His seed spilled into her and he moaned uncontrollably before falling on top of her and burying his face in her hair.

It felt like ages that they lied there, still and silent despite their ragged breathing. He could feel her stroking the back of his neck with smooth fingertips and he could feel as she squeezed her legs around him tighter. Slowly, he began to fall back to earth.

It was very dark, the next time he opened his eyes. The candle on his nightstand had burned out during their lovemaking. Slowly he pulled himself out of her and tried desperately to become accustomed to the absence. He laid down beside her after pulling the blankets over the two of them and wrapped his arm around her shoulders as she settled her head against his chest. He absentmindedly stroked her hair and could feel her fingers stroking the golden nest of curls just below his bellybutton.

"I love you too,' she whispered to him before the swirling of her fingertips slowed and her breathing deepened.

She fell asleep, but Draco remained wide-eyed and contemplative. This was all going to have to end when the time came. He dreaded when the whole arrangement would end and she would be gone. Slowly he drifted into his own dreams as he fantasized about taking a son with bushy brown hair fishing and coming home to the most beautiful girl he had ever met. He slept soundly with Hermione's head on his chest, unaware that his fantasies would be realities in due time. Little did he know, something began to grow deep inside Hermione that night that would make sure of it. Something with bright blue eyes and Bushy brown hair, that would love fishing.

------------------------------------------

Really short and sweet. I love it. Drop me a line. How do you like it? God Draco is soooooo hotttt!


	12. The Mistake

Okay okay, well I have the day off from work and school. FINALLY. You know what that means...more story…yay! I haven't been this excited since they started slicing bread!

------------------------

Three months later

The second Harry heard the rumor he knew who the "dirty little mudblood" enslaved by a prominent and incredibly cruel Death Eater was. He had his guesses about who that death eater was too. He had already lost one friend to the Malfoys and if his suspicions were correct, he was on his way to losing another. Hermione had not left his mind for nearly four months and he was sure that it was because he sensed that she was in trouble.

He rolled over and sat up at the edge of the bed. Ginny stirred and he hoped that she was still asleep. Lately he had been getting unfairly reamed out over his preoccupation with saving Hermione, so he wasn't telling her as much as he could be about his plans. He had a small group together and they were going to kidnap her away as soon as his informant gave him an absolute answer as to her whereabouts. He put his head into his hands and rested his elbows on his knees.

"I would give anything for life to be what it was," he muttered as low as he could. His memory conjured up images of life at school. Ginny stirred more and he stood to remove the pressure on the bed.

"Where are you going," He heard her murmur in a shuffle of blankets. He turned to see her squinting up at him, her shoulders bare. She snapped out of her sleepy daze and cut him with words, "oh, to save that bitch."

"Ginny, she is talented enough to help me find the second to last Horacrux and destroy it. I need to find her." He said sternly. Her level of unnecessary jealousy was beginning to drive him out of his mind. This was bigger than the two of them and she was completely surrounded in her own selfish concerns.

"I'm so sick of hearing about her. God, if she's so talented she can save her bloody self." Ginny stood up with the sheet wrapped around her bare chest and her ginger hair tousled and messy. She huffed as she walked passed him.

"I'm sick of you being such a bitch about this." Harry yelled at the bathroom door as it slammed in his face. He had nothing to hide. She couldn't understand how he could love Hermione, but not want to fuck her. They were friends and always had been. He truly wished that Ginny could understand that he was trying to save the Order and all the good in the world and he needed the help of someone he could trust completely.

He knew that she didn't trust Hermione in any way. She blamed her for Ron's death. Harry couldn't see where Ginny had any room as a judge of character because she trusted the twins right up until the minute they killed their own parents. It didn't matter. Today he was going to Malfoy manner and today he was going to rescue Hermione from the horrors she was facing there.

A loud hoot came from the window and a big white owl landed on the bed, dropping a rolled piece of parchment on top of the crumpled comforter. Harry eagerly grabbed it up and patted the owls head. With a flutter of wings, it disappeared. Nervously, Harry unrolled the parchment and read the romantically curving letter of Snape:

Dear Potter:

The woman, Carmella, that we put in place to look after young Granger has finally informed me of the situation she witnessed. Muggle forms of communication take an eternity. The second page is letter she sent to my office, describing the incidents of the night Granger disappeared.

Sincerely

Severus Snape

Harry scanned the next letter and it gave him a description of the person that Hermione was seen with. Attractive, tall and blonde, but also young. It was Draco, the bastard. Harry shuttered to think what he had done to her. He scanned the rest of the letter and came across the fact that Malfoy sr. had also shown up, but hours after his son. Harry thought it was odd that the two obviously weren't collaborating.

Harry had information from numerous sources that she had been seen with him in London and Diagon Alley. She was surely alive and in the Malfoy manner, as he had learned from a house elf named Dimmy. Today was the day. He sighed to himself and pulled on a pair of jeans. Today was the day.

---------------0jiuhdmnkjhbf

Hermione rolled over to face the sunlight that was pouring into the newly open drapes. She felt a strange ache around her neck and reached to rub it, her fingertips encountering a metal chain. She sat up groggily and heard the shower running.

Last night was the first night they had talked about proving to Voldemorte that she was a slave. Draco had been interviewed by the dark lord and told that the dark lord was pleased with the amount of force Draco used. He was proud that Draco made her bleed so much. Draco told her the story and they both resolved that it was dumb luck that her virginity was something that she kept because of circumstance and it helped save their lives. She didn't feel hurt, after all he had made it up to her with many nights of incredibly love making since then. He had the scratch marks on his back to prove it.

She fingered the necklace again. The chain had her wedding band on it. She hadn't seen it since the day Draco forced her to take it off. She smiled and crawled out from under the covers and made her way into the bathroom. She stripped her clothing on the way and stepped into the big steam cloud.

Her limbs wouldn't go further. Something didn't feel right. Draco's usually melodic voice was not sounding through the room. She walked over the slate to see the gaping curtain and empty tub. The door snapped shut behind her and she could hear struggling coming from behind her.

She turned on her heal, seemingly unaware of her nudity, and saw something she hadn't expected. Draco was tied up in a glowing stream. He was gagged and standing behind him was…Harry. Harry, what was he doing here?

"What in the bloody hell are you doing?" Hermione demanded. "Untie him!"

Harry stared at her in disbelief and looked her up and down. Draco began to thrash about even more violently when he realized that Harry was looking over her naked body. Hermione became wide-eyed and grasped for the shower curtain to cover herself. Draco managed to thrust his whole body into Harry's knees and he stumbled backward into the wall. Angrily Harry kicked him and Hermione screamed.

"Come with me, you'll be safe." Harry states briefly as he looked down at Draco who was writhing. He didn't wait for an answer, but jumped forward and grabbed Hermione's arm. Instantly they were swirling through space. Hermione cocked her arm back just in time for them to land in a messy hotel room. Thwack, she landed her small fist square into his chest.

"You idiot, you bloody moron!" She landed another fist on his shoulder. He fell back onto the bed and stared up at her in admiration and disbelief. He had just saved her. "Why did you hurt him you unthinkable bastard. He could die because of you now!"

"You were his captive! I saved you." Harry shot back angrily, ever aware of her nudity. She stomped over to the dresser and swung open the drawers. She began tearing clothing out in search of something to cover herself. Shorts and huge t-shirt were sufficient for her to continue.

Harry looked at the curious little pooch she had by her belly-button. She had obviously been eating well. She had no visible bruises and a curious silver chain hanging from her neck with a solid ring on it.

"I was fine. I was posing as his slave you bloody idiot. I need to go back." Hermione said as she pulled the shirt over her head. Harry focused on the small patch of hair between her thighs and then down her slim legs. He resolved that she was pretty hot. If she looked like that in school, he woulda-

"Stop looking at me like that!" She demanded angrily as she pulled a pair of black shorts up over her pale hips. Harry just sat there in disbelief as she paced the room. "Send me back damn you," she finally burst. Harry was so confused. He had too many women angry with him for trying to do the right thing, albeit they were angry for different reasons.

"I will not, you were in danger there." He pleaded and Hermione narrowed her eyes at him in disbelief.

"Since when is it your place to presume when, I'm in trouble. I can save my bloody self!" She yelled at him as the door swung open.

"Told you," Ginny was talking like a cat ready to pounce. Hermione shot her a glance and instantly mistrusted her. That was not the Ginny she knew in school. This was a plotting and twisted Ginny. "So, finally the coward comes back!"

Hermione looked at her angrily. "You have no idea what happened that day. You have no idea what went on. It's not my fault!" Ginny had ripped open the old wound and tears began to pour from Hermione's eyes.

"You lured him out there to die, you bitch!" Ginny pulled a wand from her pocket and pointed it at Hermione. "Crucio," she screamed and Hermione braced for an impact that didn't come. She opened her eyes and Ginny was lying on the floor writhing in pain.

"Ginny!" Harry fell to his knees beside her. What had just happened? "She has never cursed a person in her life. She must have done it wrong." Harry explained. Hermione was extremely puzzled. The word sounded clear and sure enough. Hermione should be the one on the floor. The execution was perfect. Hermione pushed it from her mind.

"I was safer where I was," Hermione said flatly. Harry picked Ginny up and laid her on the bed.

"Well, it's too late to go back. You were a bloody prisoner, Hermione. They've brainwashed you." Harry said as though he were convinced. "And what I the bloody hell are you talking about? You were just posing as a slave?"

"It was an act because we made a deal. Draco hates his father. God, it's a long story," She plopped down on the floor and pulled her knees to her chest. She missed Draco and was terrified that she would never see him again. He could be killed because of this and she couldn't stand to think of her life without him.

"Well, I've got all the time in the world." Harry looked down at her and said sarcastically. Hermione looked up at him all teary eyed and he couldn't understand how such a hated enemy had become such a loved person to Hermione. Malfoy had inspired some trust, maybe even affection within her.

"Well, He doesn't. We need to save him too." Hermione said with a voice that defied her emotional state in its sternness and clarity. Harry looked her over suspiciously. Maybe he was wrong about being able to trust her. It seemed as though they had all changed over these years.

"Who are you? You can't be serious." Harry said. Hermione's resolve returned and she rose. She smacked him across the face with all the power he could muster and left him in a daze. "What in the bloody hell was that for?"

"You could get him killed. I'm leaving and I'm going to save him, myself." Hermione said and she started toward the door. Harry stood and flicked his wand, the door slamming shut before she reached it.

"Explain exactly what's going on and I promise I will help you," Harry said as he lowered his wand.

"In short, we made a deal to get revenge on his father for years of abuse. I had to pose as a slave after Voldemorte put a bounty on my head and Draco has kept me safe ever since." Hermione said, "I owe him my bloody life!"

"You are sure he is loyal," Harry eyed her up suspiciously. Hermione nodded impatiently. "There is something you aren't telling me."

Hermione looked him in the eye and displayed her ring in between her thumb and forefinger. "Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that he's my husband."

Harry's jaw dropped wide open.

Omg. The intrigue, the mystery. What's the next Horacrux? Why didn't Ginny's spell work and why is she so..well, evil. What will happen to our beloved Draco? I have no nails left from this story. Lmao. Please R and review.


	13. The Family

Sorry it took so long. I've had a slight bit of writers block on top of massive amount fo school work. Egads! Enjoy. This chappy is promised to be a thrill ride and a half! I love you guys! Thankies for all the great reviews chest swell with pride Toodles!

#$(&$#$(&$#$&(&$$&(&$#$&&$#

Harry stared up at Hermione in complete shock and disbelief. Married, to Draco? That wasn't possible. Draco was an evil, nasty, manipulative git and everybody knew it. Had Hermione really changed so much? He twisted his head to look at Ginny.

She was sleeping soundly. Harry thought that her lack of experience with curses was funny, seeing as though she knocked herself out. Vitally, she was fine, just asleep.

"How did this happen?" He looked back up at Hermione, who was frantically pacing, the wheels in her head working in overdrive. She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear him. He strides were quick but deliberate. She needed to think of a way to save him. "Hermione! How?!"

She broke from her trance and turned to him with a narrow-eyed sneer. His body became rigid. "It was a business deal. Plain and simple. I needed money, he needed revenge. We met in the middle."

She seemed unconvincing. "Why are you saying it in the past tense, you're still married obviously." Her eyes softened and she peered at the ground in deep contemplation for several silent moments before she answered.

"The pairing became more beneficial in more ways." She said beneficial as if she were saying "enjoyable" instead. Still, the ambiguity of her answer sorely unnerved Harry. He, however, knew that it was a time to remain silent. She began her pacing again, "We need to apparate back to the manor and plot an escape…quickly."

"Now, how in the bloody hell do you propose we do that?" Harry asked as he stood. She stopped her pacing and looked at him wide eyed.

"Maybe if you could suspend your stupid grudge for a mere moment, we could figure something out." She said cuttingly. Harry balled his fists and pinned his shoulders back.

"Go ahead, punch me. Draco will bloody kill you if he finds out." Hermione stepped back as she said it. The threat registered on Harry's face and he became incredulous.

"You're fucking him aren't you? So, when did you decide that you liked scumbags?" Harry said angrily. Hermione hauled off and hooked him, knocking him backwards onto the bed. "Have you fucked his father yet? They are so alike that your probably never bored." She landed a slap on his face before he grabbed her tiny wrists.

Captivity of such didn't lower her boldness. "Don't you dare compare him to his father. You are passing judgments that you can't justify. You don't know him like I do." She yanked her hands free. Harry could see the anger and hurt in her eyes and for once he felt the honesty. She trusted and maybe even loved Draco. This was too weird.

"Please Harry, he's not who you think." She changed her tune and was now pleading. Harry softened a bit. "Let me prove it to you? Let him prove it to you?"

Harry looked her up and down. "I need insurance Hermione. These days you can't even trust your own siblings." He motioned to Ginny. Hermione knew what he meant, instantly. He needed an unbreakable vow. "Vow it, vow that he is good. If you are sure that he is then put it all on the line. I want to trust you , but this is the only way to prove it."

Without hesitation Hermione thrust out her arm. She knew all the way down to her toes that he was good and honest and she was willing to put her very soul on the line for it. "I solemnly swear that he is good and virtuous. I swear it on my life."

Harry used his wand to bind to vow. She didn't even flinch, so he could only assume that she was telling the truth to the extent of her knowledge. He decided that he would use his occlumency skills as well.

It took very little effort to push into her mind, which was soft and open. She had never learned this skill. It was rather odd for Hermione to not learn such a skill, but she truly didn't want anything to do with the war when it stopped being children's games. None of her memories depicted Draco as being anything but kid and gentle. Even his peek into their lovemaking had shown him to be caring and gentle, and damn near loving.

Hermione's brain felt strange though. Like it was protecting something in it from being heard. Like there was some other mind in there that was small and weak and she was shielding it. He exited her brain. Regardless of her holding something from him, he had the unbreakable vow that bound her to her word.

"Stop staring at me so blankly! We need to go back there, bloody hell!" Hermione was growing ever impatient with him. So, he grabbed her arm and apparated them both back to the Malfoy manor.

Ginny rose from the bed and waved her own wand. With a pop she was off. She apparated much closer to Malfoy than Hermione or Harry would ever think possible.

&&$&U$$&(&$$&&$#$&&$#$&&$

The bathroom was empty, but the air was not. She could hear the sound of angry words coming from Lucius. She motioned for Harry to hang back as she bowed her head and walked into the next room. Hermione didn't look up, but she could see Draco writhing on the floor with the pain of a several kicks. Her heart jumped into her throat. She wanted nothing more than to fall to his side and lift him up. She wanted to stroke his golden hair and soothe away the hurt that he felt. However, she dared not move.

"Ahh, the escapee finally returns to die with her incompetent master." He spat at Draco and kicked him again angrily. "The idiot wouldn't tell me how you got away or where you went! How endearing."

For the first time, she broke the role she had been playing and gazed up at him with a fire glowing in her eyes. The anger welled in her chest and her face was flushed with the heat of rage. Lucius's thin lips curled in a sadistic smile. Hermione prepared herself to fight and quickly scanned the room. Draco's wand wasn't more than three feet away and she would have to endure who knew what while she tried to get it. Lucius's hair was in disarray and his blue eyes were crazed. Lucius swung another kick into Draco's curled frame.

"Stop it!" Hermione yelled and balled her hands into fists. "Just stop it!"

Lucius's flared his nostrils in disgust. How dare a little mudblood tell him what to do? His lips curled into that same cold smile as he prepared his first verbal cuts. "Hmm, such sympathy. I suppose the discomfort from him tearing through you is gone. Did it feel nice to have your dignity stolen, while your innocence dripped its way down your thigh? I knew you were nothing but a mudblood, who knew your place. Did you like being a plaything?"

Lucius's cold words made her cry inwardly. God he knew how to cut when he wanted to. She braced herself for the rest because it was bound to get much much worse. She stepped sideways toward the wand, knowing she was out of range for Accio because she couldn't picture the detail of the wand itself.

"What prose you have. Did you spend all night thinking that up?" Hermione said sarcastically, dancing back and forth from the fire in Lucius's mind. His lips curled and contorted even more, he had not yet struck a chord in her and she could see the fury. She took another step and snuck a glance at the inscription on the side of the wand, but could not yet make it out.

"Oh, so you did enjoy it? Maybe the dark lord could play with you before you die. He much like it when women enjoy being so terrified. He especially enjoyed one of your classmates." Hermione's mind began to race with the possibilities. "Cho squealed like the gook she was. Did Draco tell you that he was there, that he watched her ravaged over and over?"

"You're a monster!" Hermione didn't want to believe that Draco stood back and watched such a disgusting practice without doing anything. She pushed the sound of screams out of her mind just in time to hear another kick into Draco's abdomen. She took another step. He had to be unconscious by now. He'd be dead too if she didn't get that wand. Another step.

She could just make out the S inscribed on the side and the image quickly projected in her mind. "Accio wand!" she yelled with all the vehement she could muster. The wand flew to her hand. She didn't hear it, but Draco mumbled the same words before it flew to her (But why).

With new born confidence, she pointed the wand at him. He didn't even flinch. With good reason. Hermione had never cursed a thing in her life and he was a murderer- well versed in the Dark Arts. It made her shake inside, but she refused to show the fear.

Slowly and surely he stepped around the crumpled mass on the floor. Hermione looked quickly and was relieved to see the rise and fall of his chest. He was still alive!

Hermione stepped back as Lucius came closer, but never lowered her wand. She could see the brooding power in his eyes as his shadow overcame her and her back hit the wall. He put his unwanded arm out and grabbed her throat. She dropped the wand and he pointed his at the very tip of her nose. "Any last words, mudblood? Hermione's eyes widened in shining brown terror. "Or desires?"

The bile rose in her throat as he stroked his long nailed hand down the skin of her jaw and neck. Instinctively she spit at him. Angered as such insult, he forcefully wiped the saliva from his eye. His lips curled in angry disgust and Hermione remained wide eyed and still. Her forced the wand closer to her face.

"Fine then, you disgusting little mudblood. I only regret Potter won't be here to watch you drop." He snarled and Hermione's heart began to pound in her chest and she braced herself for this imminent death. She squeezed her eyes shut "Avadekedavra!"

She heard something fall in front of her and assumed it was her body. Several staggering steps and then another plop forced her to open her eyes. She was still in Draco's bedroom, which now had a hole in the ceiling. Lucius had stepped backward and fallen into a seated position on the floor. His wand was on the floor across the room and Hermione could still feel the wall on her back. She had not died!

"I should have listened to that red haired demon when she warned me about you!" Lucius fell back and scrambled to his feet, with a mass of shaking blonde hair in complete disarray atop his head. "I can't believe this."

Hermione let a long sigh of relief when she saw Harry come onto the room. "Red headed who?" He yelled to Lucius. The blond man just howled with laughter.

"Did you honestly think that a Weasley would choose a lover over her family?" Harry's eyes narrowed as Ginny, clad in black robes, sauntered into the room. "And you thought she was just inexperienced with curses! HA!"

"Then why did they backfire?" Harry ventured, "I can't think of another reason."

Hermione was still frantic as she picked up Draco's wand ; she made her way past Lucius and knelt down by Draco. He was still breathing. Hermione looked up at Ginny with disgust and anger. Ginny pointed her wand at Hermione, but was stopped dead when Harry yelled "Avadekedavra!"

Ginny dropped in a flurry of black cloth. He palms were instantly pressed to her ears. She could hear Lucius's menacing laughter through her hands. "You're no better than us now Potter!"

"Shut up! SHUT UP!" She could hear Harry yelling. "Answer my bloody question or I hex you too!"

"She pregnant…with a Malfoy!" Lucius rose and found his way to his wand. "And now, in my earliest and stupidest ancestry, she is protected from magic until that baby is born."

"What?!" Hermione turned to face him with disbelief. He sneered at her with a smile. "I'm what?!"

Never once had she thought of this as a possibility and now she was kicking herself for being so naïve and stupid. She had just thought she was getting fat. Her hands found their way to the hard pooch below her bellybutton. That was definitely not fat.

Lucius looked at her with disgust, "You see, little mudblood, that there are things that the ancient Malfoys unfortunately cared more about than purity and bad faith. Lucky for you, it is protecting that heir."

Hermione staggered backward in disbelief. Harry's jaw was wide open as well. Lucius took the opportunity to disappear with a pop.

Draco was slowly coming back to consciousness, but didn't have the urge to move yet. Pain was shooting through his body, but a smile still painted itself on his lips. He was filled with pride. He had done it! He was protecting her the best way he knew how: by making her completely and wholly his…..

!#$&()(&$#!#$&()(&$#!#$&(&$$

Please read and review! Please, please, please say you will! WHatcha thinkie. Hermione found out. Lucius is pretty hot in his own evil way.. haha. Please read and review.


	14. The Tragedy

Okay. I know, I suck. It's been sooo long. So here goes…Im ready to finish it ;) You guys are gonna effing hate me. I expect flames for this one.

&$#&(&$#&(&$

The Tragedy

Hermione had stayed by Draco's bed for days as he healed, rubbing the bump of her tummy. Occasionally he would move or talk in his sleep, but fall back into his motionless stupor. These momentary spurts of hope gave her assurance that he was still alive. At night, she slept on the bed with him. Her tiny white fingers stroked the smooth gold of his hair. She longed for nothing more but to see his eyes again.

"You need to eat Hermione," Harry broke in. Hermione snapped from her thoughts. It was mid afternoon and the sunlight was spilling into this room in the Malfoy manor, like an unwanted guest being consumed by the rich darkness of fabrics and curtains. "Here." He placed a plate in her lap and she tried her best not to raise an eyebrow at his obviously…well…err… bad cooking skills. The eggs on the plate were scrambled to burnt perfection and the toast had been scraped of its battle wounds until it was nearly see through. However, Hermione was starving.

"Thank you," she said in the same flat voice she had had for the past several days. Her hands shook as she lifted the toast to her lips and bit down. She chewed with a fake smile until Harry walked away to show he was satisfied. She finished the piece and ate some of the eggs, if not for anyone but the baby.

Somewhere, somehow she tilted her head back against the chair and drifted to sleep. She heard the dish clank, probably Harry taking it away. Then a warm hand touched her face and she smiled instinctively. In her lucid dream she felt weightlessness and then softness, and envisioned floating in the clouds. She could hear Draco calling her name in the distance. And then, even in her sleep, her heart was shocked from her chest at what she saw. Draco was laying, on a cold ground with the rain streaming down his face, but his eyes were blank and lifeless. Mud clung to his eyelashes. He was dead, and crying for her with the disembodied voice she couldn't find. At least until the glowing eyes of Voldemorte stepped out from behind a tree. He mouthed the words form his scaly lips, and she could hear Draco's voice again. Then the laughter. The evil laughter she remembered from the night at the death-eater meeting. _I have it now_ he hissed. _His soul is mine and you are next._

Hermione snapped awake and Draco was still touching her face and saying her name. His eyes were wide with fear and she could feel the wetness on her cheeks. Someone in the back of her mind she could hear a baby crying, but the sound was fleeting with the dream. She was relieved to see his eyes. She missed them and felt calmed to see them. He leaned down and pressed his lips to her. Her fear and nervousness did not dissipate.

"What was it 'Mione" He whispered to her as he lay on his side and looked her in the face. She rubbed her nose and her eyes, trying to recall the sketchy details of the horrifying dream. Then she stopped.

"Did you just call me 'mione?" She asked in disbelief. He gave her a coy smile and nodded. She giggled with delight at the "pet name." She turned to him with a more serious expression "I've forgotten it already," she lied. She didn't want to upset him. It was, after all, only a dream. She was still sleepy and from the looks of it, it was nighttime. "I'm going back to sleep."

He conceded silently by placing his hand on her belly and laying his disheveled head of blonde hair down on the pillow.

Somewhere in Draco's head, he knew they had to make a move. They had to leave here, his home. It wasn't safe. He waited until he heard her breath even out. She was sleeping and he couldn't. He was nervous and on edge. Especially after that screaming and thrashing she had done in her dream. She had knocked a plate over and nearly beat him in her sleep. If he hadn't picked her up she may have hurt herself. He needed to talk to Harry.

Carefully he lifted himself and replaced his body with a pillow. Merlin, he was sore. He hurt all over, but in the way you do after you lift heavy boxes the day before. He hurt like he needed a good stretch. So he did and he felt ever bone in his body pop. A deep breath and a glance back. He was as alive as he could be, despite the darkness on the horizon…

$#&$()&()&$#$(&$#$(

He found Harry awake in a chair and wandered past the deep brooding eyes, without saying a word. Harry didn't flinch and didn't seem to be aware of the presence. Draco was parched and he decided it would be best not to stutter if he were to propose a plan for Harry. The water made him shiver and he set the glass down on the marble countertop. The floor was cold and the house was dark, but it was far from silent. He could here the scratching and patter of the house elves, who curiously looked through holes in the walls and out from cabinets, with the hope of discovering information without being seen.

He left and walked into the big open room where Harry was still lost in the glittering embers of the fireplace. Harry looked at him while he sank into a big leather armchair within slapping distance of Harry's face.

Harry looked up at Draco and saw tears. He was in shock. This was not the same boy he knew in school. The Draco in school had cold grey eyes, not ones that were capable of crying.

"I'm sorry," Harry said to him. Draco looked up at him with a new curiosity to his expression. "I'm sorry that I didn't trust you on Hermione's word. My judgment is downright awful lately."

"I'm not the one to apologize to," said Draco flatly. "You weren't completely unfounded anyway. I was a bastard in school and you were suspicious. It's reasonable and cautious. Thank you for caring for her so much. It's not everyday that we find friends like that." Draco understood and that's why he hadn't beaten Harry's face in. Matter-of-fact, it's why he hadn't killed him right there.

"Thank you." Harry went back to his brooding and Draco remained silent for some time, until Harry spoke again. "We have to send her away."

"Where could she go?" It was slightly scary that Harry was thinking along the same lines he was, "Because I plan on staying to fight. We need as many people on our side as we can get."

"Well, I've stayed in contact with Snape. He and Minerva are at a safe house in the muggle world." Harry never made eye contact with Draco, but the wheels were turning so fast in his head that his words weren't going to be able to keep up. "They are posing as a married couple. Hermione could pass for their daughter, you think?"

"I could see it, yes. How do we make this work? I mean, as soon as possible?" Draco was eager. He could trust Snape and Minerva. He knew it, or was as hopeful as could be for it.

"Well," Harry rose as walked to the fireplace. He tinkered around the base for a bit and threw in a cloud of powder. Snape's face came almost immediately- angry and disheveled as he jerked something at his waist.

"What is it," He snapped. Draco laughed. He expected Snape to be a grumpy individual if he were woken up.

"We have a favor to ask you," Harry said politely as if he were used to the bad attitude on the other end. "It's serious and we have two people that need your help."

Two. Draco smiled inwardly with pride. "Anything. Who is it Harry?" Snape used his first name and his voice had softened. "We can receive them as early as tomorrow."

"Hermione," said Harry plainly. Draco got up to kneel by the fireplace. Snape's glowing green head snapped to his face and smiled.

"I'm glad you finally broke free, boy." Snape had known about the tyranny in the household since Draco was a small boy. Draco smiled. "And who is the other Harry?"

"My son," Draco interjected. He knew it was a boy. Or at least he hoped. The first born to his family was always a boy. Snape looked him up and down, surprised. His face glowed green as he smiled.

"Alright. However we have to receive them in two separate trips because we don't need suspicion."

"That's not possible," Harry said and smiled at Draco for the first time, with an approving smile. Snape's eyes widened and Draco covertly raised his left hand to his forehead. Snape nodded in understanding. He was always good at subtle communication.

"Dobby will be their first thing in the morning with a portkey. It will be active ten-thirty and will become inactive exactly seven minutes after." Snape instructed quickly.

"Okay," said Harry and Draco in unison. It was brilliant, thought Draco, who would suspect a house elf?

The plan was set and they said their goodbyes. Draco thanked Harry with a nod and moved to lie next to Hermione for a last time before they would be separated.

"It's only temporary separation." Said Harry, "and I'm sure she'll be safe."

Draco nodded and walked away. He didn't know how permanent temporary could be yet.

#$&()$#$&(&$#&(&$$&(&$#$&

When they woke up, Draco explained the plan to Hermione. She agreed to it without too much fuss but would be reluctant to leave him when the time came.

"You're early," said Draco without moving. He had heard the pop in the bathroom and knew who it was.

"Does it displeases you master?" Muttered Dobby. He had a napkin clenched in his fist. Draco assumed that it was the portkey.

He checked the clock. It was only ten. This was a dangerous move for Dobby to be so early and it made him nervous. Hermione was glad to see the elf, however and lifted him up in an affectionate hug that made his gray cheeks light up.

"I didn't know you guys could blush," Draco said sarcastically. Dobby fell back onto his behind and laughed. Harry smiled and breathed deeply from a chair in the room. It was light humor in the midst of a goodbye.

"Hermione, please stay safe." Draco looked at her with the sincerest face he could make. He pressed his family ring into her palm.

"What's this?" She asked opening her hand.

"My family's ring, make sure the baby wears it when he is born. It will keep you both safe in my absence." He didn't want to have her out of his sight, but he knew this was best. Dobby was scratching his chest like he always did, but this time something weird happened.

A light green glow began to emanate from a bump in his shoulder.

"What is that?" Said Harry, pointing his finger at the glow. Hermione's eyes widened.

"Old mean masters put it there. He sayed that it was someone very special. It was a part of a soul. Dobby thinks he was just being mean." Dobby said and Draco shuddered.

"Oh no," Draco said and glanced at the clock. It was ten-thirty- five. "Set down the portkey dobby. You aren't going with her."

Suddenly a huge cloud blew through the curtains and Voldemorte appeared with a glowing green aura. Draco grabbed Dobby by the arm and screamed "Hermione grab it!"

She reached for it just in time to hear the dark lord his "Avadakedavra." Draco fell to the floor just in time for Hermione to swirl into the space between reality and fantasy, on her way.

She was so shocked at what she saw, that she fell forward and dropped the ring, when she landed. Snape caught her and she screamed in heavy wracking sobs. "He's dead," she garbled through her tears. "The bastard killed him!"

(&$&&$

SO who hates me? Don't lose hope. I've got a few tricks left, I promise.


	15. The Remorse

Oooo fast update coming at you!!!!!!!!! God Draco is so hot, but dead for this chappy….and I just want you all to know that if you stop reading it now you may miss the nicest most romantic act in all of fanficdom…nah..but it will be good. This is the second to last chapter and if you stop reading now you will miss the entire story…thats just how I roll. Lol…please read and review …thanks for all the feedback. YOU GUYS ARE THE REASON I WRITE, YOU ROCK!!!! Enjoy…

&$#$&&$#$&&$$&&$$&&$#

It was confirmed only hours later when Severus read aloud the note from Harry. Hermione was in shock and didn't even feel the strong steady circles McGonagall was rubbing with an open palm between her shoulders.

"I barely escaped with my life," He read with a quivering voice. "I am so sorry that I couldn't save him." The tears began to roll down her cheeks and she could hear a faint crying in the back of her mind. The baby must be suffering this same sense of loss.

Hermione had picked up the ring Draco had given her and squeezed it in her left hand so that she could feel every groove and hollow. She hoped that Draco's spirit could feel her somewhere. She watched as Snape dropped into a chair and covered his face with his hands and a curtain of straight black hair. For the first time ever, Hermione saw him break. He was crying.

She couldn't hear it through her own sobs. McGonagall was solemn and stoic and even though H

Hermione knew that it wasn't her fault, she wanted to reach out and shake her wrinkled face until she couldn't breath.

"He was like a son to me," Snape's voice was barely audible, "and nobody ever knew how good he really was." Hermione gave another loud wretched sob at the realization that this brought to her head.

"Come dear, its best we not have you two in the same room," said McGonagall as if reading the thoughts that transpired. She turned her face to Hermione, who wasn't making out anymore than a blur where her old professor should be standing.

She ushered Hermione into a room with pink everything. The curtains were sheer, but not in the romantic way you see in the movies where they flow and billow in some imaginary wind. No, these curtains were still against a closed window. They were dead too.

Hermione let the woman gentle urge her to lie down. She couldn't even feel the warmth of her hands anymore. All she felt was complete numbness. Like she was dead inside and the whole world had stopped the second it felt its angel hit the floor. Hermione tried not to, but the last thing she saw before falling into a dreamless slumber was a flash blue and gold, and then his hand came down gentle to touch her face. And she stopped crying.

(&$#$&$#$&&$$&&$$&&$$&

The time after that passed with the speed of hopelessness, every day blending with the same mundane colorlessness as the next. She ate frequently but spoke very little to anyone, but Snape who was much better at comforting than McGonagall. He explained the situation with Dobby, because it was quite apparent what had happened.

Dobby had been implanted with one of the horacruxes, the last one that Harry had to find. It all became clear to Hermione after that. That was why Lucius had been so angry when Draco let him go. Harry had come to visit and get help from McGonagall to destroy it. Harry was officially the last one.

Her belly was growing much larger, but it still didn't overpower her frame like pregnancy did to some women. She was still able to walk and complete some tasks around the house. The deadline was quickly approaching for the baby to come and Snape had been readying potions for her. She was growing very fond of him and had listened to him tell several stories that shocked her.

"I do know what to do Hermione," he said in a calm reassuring voice. She smiled and continued to slice the cucumber she was holding firmly. It would have been suggestive, but she knew he was referring to the process of birthing and labor.

"Do you now," she aid with a smile and decided to goad him on in a joke, "and how can I believe that a single man, over thirty, has any experience with babies and women?"

Snape's face grew very solemn and he took a long sip from his glass of water and looked right into her face with such demand that she stopped what she was doing and focused her attention. That was what had made him such a good professor. She could see the seriousness in his face as if she had cut a nerve, and his eyes began to water before he turned his face away.

"I have more experience than you think, Hermione." He said flatly before overturning his glass in the sink. She wished he had so much practice with washing dishes as well, but one can't have everything.

"Well then, explain it to me." She said throwing the last pieces of cucumber on the bed of lettuce she prepared earlier. He watched her wipe clean the countertop and ready the sink, that she could barely reach, to do the dishes.

"I had a wife once," he said, his voice quivering, "Her name was Lori. I can remember her face like it was just yesterday that I held her right here." His patted his chest and his eyes were starting to stream with tears.

"What happened," Hermione whispered, trying to be gentle. He was hurting so badly and it reminded her of Draco, but she dare not cry. For all of the support Snape had given her, he deserved at least this bit of understanding.

"She as pregnant with a baby girl," he was shaking. He was free of his usual composure and the pain in his eyes was almost unbearable for Hermione. Hermione put her hand on his shoulder to console him and he straightened up enough to keep going. "I was a death eater then, and she was not. She was a muggle born. When she had gone into labor, I trusted one of my fellow deatheaters, by the name of Greengrass. You and her daughter Daphne were in the same class together. Well, this was before her mother, Natasha, was married. That woman was insanely jealous of anybody;s happiness, but especially Lori's because she had wanted me since we were in school. All of this I did not know until afterward."

Hermione knew his story would be long-winded, however, she didn't expect him to use these mundane details to calm his own emotions. He continued on.

"The night after the child, Serena Rei, was born she set to work at destroying what she envied. She poisoned my wife, with some muggle poison. She told me that my wife was sleeping. And then," He faultered extremely and sunk to the floor, unable to control the hurt inside, but he continued regardless. "She brought me my baby girl and a bottle. The child was screaming like something was wrong with her. I didn't know what the baby was trying to say then and later learned that their reactions are the purest and most accurate ones. The sick bitch watched me feed the child the poisoned milk, and then laughed when I was powerlessly watching her die in my arms." With his conclusion the tears began to pour down his face and he got up. Hermione watched him walk away, with erratic leg movements. She jumped when the door slammed. She had been wallowing in her own self-pity so long, that she didn't recognize the subtle pain in other people. He must have been holding that back for the past months as her pregnancy reached its peak.

(&$$&()(&$&(&$#$&(&$$&(

Snape didn't mention anymore about it again. However, she became less dependant upon him emotionally because she realized the torture he was going through by reliving his experience. Then the day came and the pain was more unbelievable than anything she had ever felt.

Through all the commotion and rushing around and potion that Snape was shoving down her throat, she had to endure the feeling of something with very sharp teeth eating her insides. She screamed in pain while Snape held her feet and chanted "Push."

McGonagall held her hand and made a face much like a fish, which was meant to encourage her breathing, but it made her feel more like she was trapped under a rock in a fishbowl. Then it happened, after hours upon hours of pushing and yelling and pain. Her son was born in a messy loud moment that numbed the pain with her curiosity and she struggled to sit up and look around fro the crying child.

"IT'S A BOY!!!" He announced with loud enthusiasm. McGonagall smiled brightly at the admission and Hermione took a deep breath, comforted by the crying of her little boy. Snape washed him off in a warm tub of water and wrapped him in a soft white blanket before she was able to hold him.

She looked down into the baby's face and saw every bit of Draco in him. She smiled with joy, knowing that she still had a piece of him with her always no matter what.

"Hermione, a name." Said Snape with so much enthusiasm that you would have thought the baby was his. Hermione looked down into the little face and her smile faded. The blankness entered her mind and the excitement died. She didn't have a name and wasn't going to give one unless she was absolutely sure it was perfect.

Neither professor questioned it.

)(&$&(&$#$&&$#$&&$#$&$#$&&$#

That evening, after she had slept all afternoon and McGonagall tended the baby. She awoke to the sound of crying and got up, feeling that she had better get used to it. She picked the baby up out of the crib, which held a funny memory of its own (Snape isn't very good at putting things together, but McGonagall had taken away his wand that day, just to watch his struggle with a screwdriver. After rolling with laughter, she conceded to give it back and the crib was together in seconds.)

She began to feed the baby when she heard the click of the bedroom door. The room was too dark for her to see anything, but she heard the footsteps. The child cooed and laughed in her arms and she took comfort in the fact that it couldn't be a threat if the baby was glad to see whoever it was.

"Who is there?" She question into the darkness. She got no response and began to grow uneasy. She stood and returned to baby to its crib so she could search the room. She drew her wand and yelled and incantation. With a spark and a sound much like the one when you light a sparkler on the fourth of July, her wand tip began to glow. In utter shock, she fell backwards. Through the darkness, she saw Lucius's glowing white face and she hoped it had been her eyes playing tricks on her.

"May I see him," He spoke and her fear became tangible like it was another person standing in the room with them. She rose to her feet with no other though than of that to defend her baby.

"No, get out…you aren't going to kill you grandson too." She cut through the night, her wand poised to destroy him at any false move.

He reached over to flick on the light and she was shocked at what she saw. He had grown thin and the bags under his eyes were a sign that he hadn't slept in months. He threw his wand down on the floor as a sign of surrender and skulked to the chair that Snape had struggled to drag from the sitting room. She picked up his wand but remained with hers poised on him.

"I said get out, not stay and have tea. Leave you bloody murderer, you sick disgusting excuse for a human being, you…" she had run out of insults, but he said nothing. He didn't even look at her. Instead his face was painted with the frown of a broken man. A man dying inside. He let his left forearm be exposed. The dark mark had been carved out of it with the rudimentary skill of a knife.

"I'm a dead man walking, Hermione. I just want to see my grandson before the dark lord finds me." His hair was scraggly and his face dirty, like he had been living in the ground somewhere. "Please, let me hold him just once and I will be gone." He looked stricken. He looked broken and the dark mark had been cut out of his arm, presumably by his own hand. Could this all really be a show?

"I can't trust you and he is the only piece of Draco I have left," Hermione conceded and lowered her wand. "I'm waking the others."

"Then wake then and make this suffering stop sooner. I am not afraid of the death that's coming, just of who brings it." He was still articulate, but much without any cockiness. He bowed his head. "I'll call for them, if you'd like."

Hermione was stunned and didn't know what she should say. And odd sense of trust flushed over her and the baby began to giggle and laugh. She remembered what Snape had told her, about a baby's intuition. Her nerves settled and she tucked away her wand. No hope flashed across Lucius's face, no gleam of happiness. He knew full well that he was saying goodbye to a family he would never know. He was struggling to grasp at an apology that he knew would never be sufficient.

Hermione walked over to the crib and lifted the newborn very carefully. She turned and held her breath as she strode toward him. He received the child carefully as if he knew what he was doing. As if he had had ten kids and remembered exactly what to do. The second he looked into the baby's face it cooed and giggled. A sense of relief swept over Hermione as she watched. For the first time in this whole encounter, Lucius smiled. It was an expression she had never, and was sure no one else had ever, seen him make. There was a good man in him somewhere.

"Hello little one," he said in little more than a whisper. He dabbed the baby's nose with his free hand. It squealed with delight. He began to hum, in a low rhythmic voice that nearly put Hermione to sleep. The baby began to slumber.

After sometime he looked up at Hermione with his shocking gray eyes. She must have been smiling because he smiled back. They stayed looking at one another in silence before she broke the gaze and sat on the bed with her feet dangling. She watched them for a few minutes, proud to see them again.

Lucius refocused his attention to the baby, who was falling asleep to the sound of his humming voice. After some time, he stood and returned the baby to the crib, who was now sleeping soundly. Hermione felt a strange calm and ease. He was very good with children. Her mind and her reason were telling her how wrong it was that she felt so comfortable with this murderer holding her child that she didn't even notice him standing in front of her. He held his arms out to her and she looked at him and didn't move.

"I'm so sorry for everything I've done." His arms fell to his sides. "I wish I could tell Draco that. He was the only thing that I ever accomplished; no matter how much I tried to destroy it. I wish I could tell him, but the best I can do is make peace with my grandson. Please tell him how good of a man his father was, despite how bad I was."

Hermione looked up at him, her brown eyebrows knitting together in a furrow. He was sorry. Sorry and broken and for the first time in her entire life she felt sympathy for the man. He had lost everything, but so had she.

He ran his hands simultaneously through his hair and tipped his head to the floor. A single droplet fell from his nose, but he quickly regained his composure and wiped his eyes clean before looking at her again.

"I'm glad it was you. Take good care of him..and when you find a name, make sure it is a strong brave name." Hermione held her breath and widened her eyes.

"How do you know he doesn't have a name?" She asked and stood to face him with intense curiosity. "How?"

"I talked to him," he said flatly. He smirked at her complete confusion. She mouthed the word how as she combed the recesses of her brain for how it was possible. Obviously, Lucius had been trained in occlumency and was a mind speaker, but the baby? "All babies can do it."

"What else did you tell him?" She said, nervous that it was bad. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into an affectionately paternal hug. She hadn't the energy to resist and was still sore from labor. Besides, it was the first time she felt safe for a long time, so she hugged back.

"Just to take good care of his mommy. He loves you dearly. Among other things." He whispered to her. "I just want to tell you that I'm sorry for all the wrong I've ever done to you. I see the man that I am and hate it. And I know I will never see you, or my son, or my grandson ever again."

"What else did you say to him?" She said with unrelenting curiosity. He urged her back by the same shoulders he had pulled her into the embrace with.

"You'll find out soon enough," he said and kissed her on the forehead before striding toward the door.

"Lucius," she said quietly. He stopped but did not turn. "I accept your apology. Draco would have been proud."

He continued walking and left, never turning again to face her. Because, Lucius Malfoy was still prideful in his defeat and he didn't want her to see him cry.

(&$$&(&$$&(&$$&(

okay, I swear to god I will make this up to you all. I SWEAR!!!!! So please read the next chapter. I am redeeming myself in it. For now, please read and review….please give me teh feedback! I love you guys. Yuna Karasu, over and out.


End file.
